Osl 00 o x/'O-i^- THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESENTED BY PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID THE COMPLETE ANGLER; ^^ OB, lONTEMPLATIVE MAN'S RECREATION BEING A DISCOURSE ON RIVERS, FISH-PONDS, FISH, AND FISHING. BY IZAAKj WALTON AND CHARLES COTTON. WITH LIVES, AND NOTES, BY SIR JOHN HAWKINS, KNIGHT. EDITED BY JAMES RENNIE, A.M. PROFESSOR OF ZOOLOCY, KING'S COLLEGE, LONDON. A NEW EDITION. LONDON: THOMAS TEGG & SON, CHEAPSIDE; R. GRIFFIN & CO. GLASGOW; TEGG, WISE & CO. DUBLIN. 1835. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/contemplativemanOOwaltrich ADVERTISEMENT TO THE EDITION PUBLISHED BY SIR JOHN HAWKINS, 1760. The Complete Angler having been written so long ago as 1653, although the last publication thereof in the lifetime of the Author was in 1676, contains many particulars of persons now but little known, and frequent allusions to facts, and even modes of living, the memory whereof is in a great measure obliterated : a new edition, therefore, seemed to require a retrospect to the time when the Authors lived, an explanation of such passages as an interval of more than a hundred years had necessarily rendered obscure, together with such improvements in the art itself as the accumulated experience of succeeding times has enabled us to furnish. An Edition, undertaken with this view, is now attempted, and in a way, it is to be hoped, that may once again intro- duce the Authors to the acquaintance of persons of learning and judgment- All that the Editor requests, in return for the pains he has taken, is, that the reader will do him the justice to believe that his only motives for the republication of this work were, a desire to perpetuate the memory of a meek, benevolent, pious man, and to contribute something to the improvement of an art of which he professes himself a lover. Twickenham, April 10, 1760. [The Notes to this edition by Professor Rennie, con- sisting chiefly of the correction of the errors of the original in Natural History, are marked by his initials, J. R.] SetbrHXawes. hoJtfe potiife of hus' ness , and jno netf.arui c/irt;and ! hodffe podffe of bus' ntss , and mo no/, and cttremnd tair;Aor will we vex now dio' it rain; Well haniA^h all sor raw, and giruf 'tilt to morrow, emd c/lt; a/id an pie a /f^jl} .ifle and angle a.. (fatn. / LIFE IZAAK WALTON. The excellent Lord Verulam has noted it as one of the • great deficiencies of biographical history, that it is, for the most part, confined to the actions of kings, princes, and great personages, who are necessarily few ; while the memory of less conspicuous, though good men, has been no better preserved than by vague reports and barren elogies. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, if little care has been taken to perpetuate the remembrance of the person who is the subject of the present inquiry ; and, indeed, there are many circumstances that seem to account for such an omission ; for neither was he distinguished by his rank, or eminent for his learning, or remarkable for the performance of any public service ; but as he ever affected a retired life, so was he noted only for an ingenious, humble, good man. However, to so eminent a degree did he possess the qualities above ascribed to him, as to afford a very justifiable reason for endeavouring to" impress upon the minds of mankind, by a collection of many scattered passages concerning him, a due sense of their value and importance Isaac, or, as he used to write it, Izaak Walton, was born at Stafford, in the month of August, 1593. The Oxford Antiquary, who has thus fixed the place and year of his nativity, has left us no memorials of his family, nor even hinted where or how he was educated ; but has only told us, that before the year 1643, Walton was settled, and followed the trade of a sempster, in London * • Athen. Oxon. vol. i. £05. A 2 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. Prom his own writings, then, it must be that the circum- stances attending his life must, in a great measure, come ; and, as occasions offer, a proper use will be made of them : never- theless, a due regard will be paid to some traditional memoirs, which (besides that they contain nothing improbable) the authority of those to whom we stand indebted for them, will not allow us to question^ His first settlement in London, as a shopkeeper, was in the Royal Burse in Cornhill, built by Sir Thomas Gresham, and finished in 1567 * In this situation he could scarcely be said to have elbow-room ; for the shops over the Burse were but seven feet and a half long, and five wide ; f yet here did he carry on his trade, till some time before the year 1624 ; when •* he dwelt on the north side of Fleet Street, in a house two doors west of the end of Chancery Lane, and abutting on a messuage known by the sign of the Harrow.":}: Now, the old timber house at the south-west corner of Chancery Lane in Fleet Street, till within these few years, was known by that sign : it is therefore beyond doubt that Walton lived at the very next door. And in this house he is, in the deed above referred to, which bears date 1624, said to have followed the trade of a linen-draper. It farther appears by that deed, that the house was in the joint occupation of Isaac Walton, and John Mason, hosier ; whence we may conclude, that half a shop was sufficient for the business of Walton. A citizen of this age would almost as much disdain to admit of a tenant for half his shop, as a knight would to ride double j though the brethren of one of the most ancient orders in the w^orld were so little above this practice, that their common seal was the device of two riding on one horse. $ A more than gradual deviation from that parsimonious character, of which this is a ludicrous instance, hastened the grandeur and declension of that fraternity j and it is rather to be wished than hoped, that the vast increase of trade of this country, and an aversion from the frugal manners of our forefathers, may not be productive of similar consequences to this nation in general. 1 conjecture, that about 1632 he married; for in that year I find him living in a house in Chancery Lane, a few doors * Ward's Life of Sir Thomas Gresham, p. 12. f Ibid. \ Ex VL't. charta perns me. § The Knights Templars. Ashmole's Inst.ofthe Order of the Garter^ p. 55- See the seal at the end of Matt. Paris Hist. Anglicana, edit. 1640. LIFE OF I2AAK WALTON. d higher up,- on the left hand, than the former, and described by the occupation of a sempster, or milliner. The former of these might be his own proper trade ; and the latter, as being a feminine occupation, might probably be carried on by his wife : she, it appears, was Anne, the daughter of Thomas Ken, of Furnival's Inn, and sister of Thomas, afterwards Dr Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells, one of the seven that were sent to the Tower, and who, at the Revolution, was deprived, and died in retirement. Walton seems to have been as happy in the married state, as the society and friendship of a prudent and pious woman of great endowments could make him ; and that Mrs Walton was such a one, we may conclude from what will be said of her hereafter. About 1643 he left London, and, with a fortune very far short of what would now be called a competency,* seems to have retired altogether from business ; at which time, (to use the words of Wood,) '* finding it dangerous for honest men to be there, he left that city, and lived sometimes at Stafford,f and elsewhere ; but mostly in the families of the eminent clergymen of England, of whom he was much beloved. J While he continued in London, his favourite recreation was angling, in which he was the greatest proficient of his time ; and indeed, so great were his skill and experience in that art, that there is scarce any writer on the subject since his time, who has not made the rules and practice of Walton his very foundation. It is, therefore, with the greatest propriety that Langbaine calls him " the common father of all anglers."^ The river that he seems mostly to have frequented for this purpose was the Lea, which has its source above Ware, in Hertfordshire, and falls into the Thames a little below Black Wall ; Ij unless we will suppose that the vicinity of the New River f to the place of his habitation, might sometimes tempt him out with his friends, honest Nat. and R. Roe, whose loss he so pathetically mentions, ** to i^jend an afternoon there. * See his Will, at the end of the Life. f He lived upon a small estate near the town of Staflford, where, according to his own account, lie suifered during the time of the Civil Wars ; having by his loyalty rendered himself obnoxious to the persons in power. I Athen. Oxon. vol. i. ."BOS. § Lives of the English Dramatic Poets, art. Cha. Cotton, Esq. II See chap lix. ^ That great work, the bringing water from Chadwell and Amwell, in Hertfordshire, to London, by means of the trench called the New River, was completed on Michaelmas day, 1613. Stow's Survey, fol. 1633, p. 12- ** Preface to Complete Angler. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. In this year, 1 662, he was, by death, deprived of the solace and comfort of a good wife, as appears by the following monumental inscription in the chapel of Our Lady, in the cathedral church of Worcester ; EXTKRRIS D. M. S. HERE LTETH BURIED SO much as could dye of ANNE, THE WIFE OF IZAAK WALTON; who was a Woman of remarkable Pmdence, and of the Primitive Piety ; her great and general knowledge being adorned with such true Humility, and blessed with so much Christian Meeliess, as made her worthy of a more memorable IMonument. She dved (alas that she is dead !) the 17th of April, 1662, Aged 52. Study to be like her. Living, while in London, in the parish of St Dunstan in the West, whereof Dr John Donne, dean of St Paul's, was vicar, he became, of course, a frequent hearer of that excellent preacher, and, at length, (as he himself expresses it,*) his convert. Upon his decease in 1631, Sir Henry Wotton (of whom men- tion will be made hereafter) requested Walton to collect materials for a Life of the Doctor, which it seems Sir Henry had undertaken to write :f but Sir Henry dying before he had completed the life, Walton undertook it himself ; and, in the year 1640, finished and published it, with a Collection of the Doctor's Sei'wons, in folio. As soon as the book came out, a complete copy was sent as a present to Walton, by Mr John Donne, the Doctor's son, afterwards Doctor of Laws ; and one of the blank leaves contained his letter to Mr Walton : the letter is yet extant, and in print,;}: and is a handsome and grateful acknowledgment of the honour done to the memory of his father. Doctor King, afterward Bishop of Chichester, in a letter to the author, thus expresses himself concerning this Life " I am glad that the general demonstration of his [Doctor Donne's] worth was so fairly preserved, and lepresented to the world by * Verses of Walton at the end of Dr Donne's Life. f See Reliquie latter part of his life, dwelt in an alms-i house, near the Gatehouse, Westminster. In 1651, two years before the first publication of Walton's work, he published a work in duodecimo, called the Artof Anglings to which he affixed his name : f he published, in 1653, a second edition, in quarto, under the same title, but without his name : and in 1659, he published the third edition of it, under the enlarged title of Barker's Delight^ or the Art of Angling : and for that singulai vein of humour that runs through it, a most diverting book it is. The Dedication of this performance to Edward Lord Montague, general of the navy, is given in the margin : 1^ and * Barker's Delight, p. 20. f Walton, in the first edition, page 108, says, " I will tell you freely, I find Mr Thomas Barker, a gentleman that has spent much time and money in angling, deal so judicious and freely in a little book of his of angling, and especially of making and angling with a fly for a trout, that I will give you his very directions without much variation, which shall follow." In his fifth edition, he again mentions the use which he had made of Barker's book, but in different words : " I shall give some other directions for fly-fishing, such as are given by Mr Thomas Barker, a gentleman that hath spent much time in fishing; but I shall do it with a little variation." \ *' Noble Lord ! I do present this my book as I have named it. Barker's Delight, to your honour. I pray God send you safe home to your good lady iiiid sweet babes. Amen, Amen. If you shall find any thing delightful in the reading of it, I shall heartily rejoice ; for I know you are one who takes delight in that pleasure, and have good judgment and experience, as many noble persons and gentlemen of true piety and honour do and have. The fiivour that I have found from you, and a great many more, that did and do love that pleasure, shall never be buried in oblivion by me. I am now grown old, and am willing to enlarge my little book. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 17 the reader will meet with some farther specimens of the author's style and manner of writing, in the notes on the pre- sent edition. And of Cotton it must be said, that living- in a country where fly-fishing was and is almost the only practice, he had not only the means of acquiring, but actually possessed more skill in the art, as also in the method of making flies, than most men of his time. His book is, in fact, a continuation of Walton's, not only as it teaches at large that branch of the art of angling which Walton had but slightly treated on, but as it takes up Venator, Walton's piscatory disciple, just where his master had left him ; and this connection between the two parts will be clearly seen, when it is remarked, that the traveller whom Cotton invites to his house, and so hospitably entertains, and also instructs in the art of fly-fishing, — I say this traveller, and Venator, the pupil of Walton, come out to be one and the same person. Not farther to anticipate what will be found in the Second Part, it shall here suffice to say, that there is great spirit in the dialogue ; and that the same conversable, communicative I have written no more but my own experience and practice ; and have set forth the true ground of angling, which I have been gathering these threescore years, having spent many pounds in the gaining of it, as is well known in the place where I was born and educated, which is Brace- meale, in the liberty of Salop ; being a freeman and burgess of the same city. If any noble or gentle angler, of what degree soever he be, have a mind to discourse of any of these ways and experiments, I live in Henry the Seventh's Gifts, the next door to the Gatehouse in Westminster, — my name is Barker, — where I shall be ready, as long as please God, to satisfy them and maintain my art during life, which is not like to be long ; that the younger fry may have my experiments at a smaller charge than I had them : for it would be too heavy for every one that loveth that exercise, to be at the charge as I was at first in my youth, the loss of my time, with great expenses. Therefore, I took it in consideration, and thought fit to let it be understood, and to take pains to set forth the true grounds and ways, that I have found by experience both for fitting of the rods and tackles, both for ground baits and flies ; with the directions for the making thereof; with observations for times and seasons for the ground baits and flies, both for day and night, with the dressing ; wherein I take as much delight as in the taking of them ; and, to shew how I can perform it, to furnish my lord's table only with trouts, as it is furnished with flesh, for sixteen or twenty dishes. And I have a desire to preserve their health, (with the help of God,) to go dry in their boots and shoes in angling ; • for age taketh the pleasure from me." » See his recipe for this purpose, in the notes on Ch, XVII. 18 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. temper appears in it, that so eminently distinguishes the piece it accompanies. The description of Flies, with the materials for, and dif- ferent methods of, making them, though they may admit of some improvement — and accordingly the reader will meet with several valuable ones in the notes on the chapter of artificial flies — are indisputably the most exact and copious of all that have ever yet been published. At the end of the Second Part, though in this edition it has been thought proper to transpose them, are [were] some verses of Cotton's writing, which he calls The Retirement, or Stanzes IrreguUers. Of them, and also of the book, take this charac- ter from Langbaine : " This book is not unworthy of the perusal of the gravest men that are lovers of this innocent recreation ; and those who are not anglers, but have a taste for poetry, may find Mr Cotton's character better described by himself, in a copy of verses printed at the end of that book, called The Retirement, than any I might present the reader from Colonel Lovelace, Sir Aston Cockaine, Robert Herrick, Esq. or Mr Alexander Brome ; all which have writ verses in our author's praise ; but, in my poor judgment, far short of these Stanzes IrreguUers''' * In short, these books contain a great number of excellent rules and valuable discoveries ; and it may, with truth, be said, that few have ever perused them, but have, unless it was their own fault, found themselves not only better anglers, but better men. A book which had been published by Col. Robert Venables, some years before, f called the Experienced Angler, or Angling Improved, which has its merit, was also now reprinted ; and the booksellers prefixed to it a title of the Universal Angler : under which they sometimes sold the three bound together ; but the book being written in a manner very different from that of the Complete Angler, it was not thought proper to let it accompany the present edition ; however, some use has been made of it in the notes. It has a preface signed I. W. undoubtedly of Walton's writing. And here it may not be amiss to remark, that between the two parts of the Complete Angler there is an obvious difference; the latter [Part,] though it abounds in descriptions of a wild and romantic country, and exemplifies the intercourse of hospitable urbanity, is of a didactic form, and contains in it more of instruction in the art it professes to teach, than of * Lives of the English Dramatic Poets, art. Chajles Cotton, Esq. t In 1662. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 19 moral reflection : whereas the former, besides the pastoral simplicity that distinguishes it, is replete with sentiments that edify, and precepts that recommend, in the most persuasive manner, the practice of religion, and the exercise of patience, humility, contentedness, and other moral virtues. In this view of it, the book might be said to be the only one of the kind, but that I find somewhat like an imitation of it extant in a tract entitled Angling improved to Spiritical Uses, part of an octavo volume written by that eminent person the Honourable Robert Boyle, an angler, as himself confesses, and published in 166.5, with this title : " Occasional Reflections upon several Subjects ; whereto is premised a Discourse about such Kind of thoughts." Great names are entitled to great respect. The character of Mr Boyle, as a devout Christian and deep philosopher, is deservedly in high estimation ; and a comparison between his Reflections and those of Walton might seem an invidious labour. But see the irresistible impulse of wit ! the book here referred to was written in the very younger years of the author ; and Swilt, who had but little learning himself, and was better skilled in party politics than in mathematics or physics, respected no man for his proficiency in either, and accordingly has not spared to turn the whole of it into ridicule.* Walton was now in his eighty-third year, — an age which, to use his own words, " might have procured him a writ of ease,f and secured him from all farther trouble in that kind ;" when he undertook to write the Life of Doctor Robert Sanderson, Bishop of Lincoln: J which was published, together with several of the bishop's pieces, and a sermon of Hooker's, in octavo, 1677. Such were the persons whose virtues Walton was so laudably employed in celebrating ; and surely he has done but justice in saying that " These were honourable men in their genera- tions."— Ecclus. xliv. 7.^ And yet, so far was he from arrogating to himself any merit in this his labour, tnat in the instance of Dr Donne's Life, he compares himself to Pompey's * See his Meditation on a Broomstick. f A discharge from the office of a judge, or the state and degree of a sergeant-at-law. Dugdale's Origines Juridiciales, 139. That good man and learned judge. Sir George Croke, had obtained it some time before the writing of Sanderson's Life Life of Sir George Croket in the Preface to his Reports, voL iii. \ See the letter from Bishop Barlow to Walton, at the end of Sanderson's. Life. § Motto to the Collection of Lives. 20 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. bondman, who being found on the sea-shore, gathering up the scattered fragments of an old broken boat, in order to burn the body of his dead master, was asked, " Who art thou that preparest the funerals of Pompey the Great ? " hoping, as he says, that if a Hke question should be put to him, it would be thought to have in it more of wonder than disdain. The above passage in Scripture, assumed by Walton as a motto to the Collection of Lives, may, with equal propriety, be applied to most of his friends and intimates ; who were men of such distinguished characters for learning and piety, and so many in number,* that it is matter of wonder by what means a man in his station could obtain admittance among so illus- trious a society ; unless we will suppose, as doubtless was the case, that his integrity and amiable disposition attracted the notice, and conciliated the affections of all with whom he had any concern. It is observable, that not only these, but the rest of Walton's friends, were eminent royalists ; and that he himself was in great repute for his attachment to the royal cause, will appear by the relation taken from Ashmole's History of the Order of the Garter^ p. 228 ; where the author, speaking of the ensigns of the order, says, " Nor will it be unfitly here remembered, by what good fortune the present sovereign's Lesser George, set with fair diamonds, was preserved after the defeat given to the Scotch forces at Worcester, ann. 4 Car. II. Among the rest of his attendants then dispersed. Colonel Blague was one ; who taking shelter at Blore-pipe-house in Staffordshire, where one Mr George Barlow then dwelt, delivered his wife this George to secure. Within a week after, Mr Barlow himself carried it to Robert Milward, Esq. ; he being then a prisoner to the Parliament, in the garrison of Stafford ; and by his means was it happily preserved and restored ; for, not long after, he delivered it to Mr Isaac Walton (a man well known, and as well beloved of all good men ; and will be better known to posterity, by his ingenious pen, in the Lives of Dr Donne, Sir Henry Wotton, Mr Richard Hooker, and Mr George Herbert,^ to be given to Colonel Blague, then a prisoner in the Tower ; who, considering it had already passed so many dangers, was persuaded it could yet secure one hazardous attempt of his * In the number of his intimate friends, we find Archbishop Usher, Archbishop Sheldon, Bishop Morton, Bishop King, Bishop Barlow, Dr Fuller, Dr Price, Dr Woodford, Dr Featly, Dr Holdsworth, Dr Hammond, Sir Edward Sandys, Sir Edward Bysh, Mr Cranmer, Mr Chillingworth, Michael Drayton, and that celebrated scholar and critic, Mr John Hales of Eton. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 21 own ; and thereupon, leaving- the Tower without leave-taking-, hasted the presentation of it to the present sovereign's hand."* The religious opinions of good men are of little importance to others, any farther than they necessarily conduce to virtuous practice ; since we see, that as well the different persuasions of Papist and Protestant, as the several no less differing parties into which the Reformed Religion is unhappily sub- divided, have produced men equally remarkable for their endowments, sincere in their professions, and exemplary in their lives : f but were it necessary, after what has been above remarked of him, to be particular on this head, with respect to our author we should say, that he was a very dutiful son of the Church of England ; nay, farther, that he was a friend to a hierarchy, or, as we should now call such a one, a high churchman ; for which propensity of his, if it needs an apology, it may be said, that he had lived to see hypocrisy and fanaticism triumph in the subversion of both our eccle- siastical and civil constitution ; the important question of toleration had not been discussed ; the extent of regal pre- rogative, and the bounds of civil and religious liberty, had never been ascertained ; and he, like many other good men, might look on the interests of the church, and those of religion, as inseparable. Besides the works of Walton above-mentioned, there are extant of his writing, Verses on the Death of Dr Donne, beginning, * Our Donne is dead ; ' Verses to his reverend friend the Author of the Synagogue, printed together with Herbert's Temple ;X Verses before Alexander Brome's Poems, octavo, 1646; and before Shirley's Poems, octavo, 1646, — and before Cartwright's Plays and Poems, 1651. He wrote also the following Lines under an engraving of Dr Donne, before his Poems, published in 1635. This was — for youth, strength, mirth, and wit — that time Most count their golden age ; § but was not thine : Thine was thy later years, so much refined From youth's dross, mixth, and wit, as thy pure mind * See also Dr Plott's Staffordshire, 311. f If the intelligent reader doubts the truth of this position, let him reflect on, and compare with each other, the characters of Hooker, Father Paul, and Mr Richard Baxter. \ Vide infra, the signature to the second copy of Commendatory Verses, and chap. v. note. § Alluding to his age, viz. eighteen, when the picture was pamted from wmch the print was taken. 22 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. Thought (like the angels) nothing but the praise Of thy Cre.itor, in those last, best days. Witness this book (thy emblem) which begins "With love ; but ends with sighs and tears tor sins. Dr Henry King, bishop of Chichester, in a letter to Walton, dated in November, 1664, and in which is contained the judg- ment (herein before inserted) of Hales of Eaton, on the Life of Dr Donne, says, that Walton had, in the Life of Hooker, given a more short and significant account of the character of this time, and also of Archbishop Whitgift, than he had received from any other pen, and that he had also done much for Sir Henry Savile, his contemporary and familiar friend ; which fact does very well connect with what the late Mr Des Maizeaux some years since related to a gentleman now deceased,* from whom myself had it, viz. that there were then several letters of Walton extant, in the Ashmolean Museum, relating to a Life of Sir Henry Savile, which Walton had entertained thoughts of writing. I also find that he undertook to collect materials for a Life of Hales. It seems that Mr Anthony Farringdon, minister of St Mary Magdalen, Milk Street, London, had begun to write the Life of this memorable person ; but dying before he bad completed it, his papers were sent to Walton, with a request from Mr Fulman, f who had proposed to himself to continue and finish it, that Walton would furnish him with such infor- mation as was to his purpose. Mr Fulman did not live to complete his design ; but a Life of Mr Hales, from other materials, was compiled by the late Mr Des Maizeaux, and published by him in 1719, as a specimen of a new Biographical Dictionary. A Letter of Walton, to Marriot, his bookseller, upon this occasion, was sent me by the late Rev. Dr Birch, soon after the publication of my first edition of the Complete Angler, containing the above facts ; to which the doctor added, that * William Oldys, Esq. Norroy king-at-arms, author of the Life of Mr Cotton, prefixed to the Second Part, in the former editions of this work. •\ Mr William Fulman, amanuensis to Dr Henry Hammond. i>ee him in Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. 823. Some specious arguments have been urged to prove that this person was the author of The Whole Duty (f Man, and 1 once thought they had finally settled that long agitated question, — " To whom is the world obliged for that excellent work ? " but I find a full and ample refutation of them, in a book entitled Memoirs of several Ladies of Great Britain, by George Ballard, quarto, 1752, p. 318, and that the weight of evidence is greatly in favour of a lady deservedly celebrated by him, viz. Dorothy, the wife of Sir John Packington, Bart, and daughter of '1 homas Lord Coventry, lord-keeper of the Great Seal, temp. Car. I. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTOX. 23 after the year 1719, Mr Fulman's papers came to the hands of Mr Des Maizeaux, who intended in some way or other to avail himself of them ; but he never published a second edition of his Life of Hales ; nor, for aught that 1 can hear, have they ever yet found their way into the world. In 1683, when he was ninety years old, Walton published " Thealma and Clearchus ; a pastoral history, in smooth and easy verse, written long- since by John Chalkhill, Esq. an acquaintance and friend of Edmund Spenser." To this poem he wrote a preface, containing a very amiable character of the author. He lived but a very little time after the publi'cation of this poem ; for, as Wood says, he ended his days on the fifteenth day of December, 1 683, in the great frost, at Winchester, in the house of Dr William Hawkins, a prebendary of the church there, where he lies buried.* In the cathedral of Winchester, viz. in a chapel in the south aisle, called Prior Silksteed's Chapel, on a large black flat marble stone, is this inscription to his memory ; the poetry whereof has very little to recommend it : HERE RESTETH THE BOHY OF MR ISAAC WALTON, WHO DTED THE FIFTEENTH OF DECEMBER, 1683. Alas ! he 's gone before, Gone to return no more. Our panting breasts aspire After their aged sire, Whose well spent life did last Full ninety years and past : But now he hath bfgun That which will ne'er be done. Crown'd with eternal bliss. We wish our souls with his. Votia modestis sicflerunt Uberi. The issue of Walton's marriage were, — a son, named Isaac, and a daughter, named, after her mother, Anne. This son was placed in Christ Church College, Oxford ; f and, having taken his degree of bachelor of arts, travelled, together with his uncle, Mr (afterward bishop) Ken, in the year 1674, being the year of the jubilee, into France and Italy ; and, as Cotton says, visited Rome and Venice. Of this son, mention is made ♦ Athen. Oxon. vol. i. col. S05. f Vide part ii. chap. vi. Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. 9S9 ; Biogr. Brit. art. Ken. 24 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. in the remarkable will of Dr Donne the younger, (printed on a half-sheet,) in 1662 ; whereby he bequeathed to the elder Walton all his father's writings, as also his commonplace book, which, he says, may be of use to him if he makes him a scholar. Upon the return of the younger Walton, he prose- cuted his studies ; and having finished the same, entered into holy orders ; and became chaplain to Dr Seth Ward, bishop of Sarum ; by whose favour he attained to the dignity of a canon-residentiary of that cathedral. Upon the decease of Bishop Ward, and the promotion of Dr Gilbert Burnet to the vacant see, Mr Walton was taken into the friendship and con- fidence of that prelate ; and being a man of great temper and discretion, and for his candour and sincerity much respected by all the clergy of the diocess, he became very useful to him " in conducting the affairs of the chapter. Old Isaac Walton having by his will bequeathed a farm and land near Staff'ord, of about the yearly value of twenty pounds, to this his son and his heirs for ever, upon condition, that if his said son should not marry before he should be of the age of forty-one, or, being married, should die before the said age, and leave no son that should live to the age of twenty-one, then the same should go to the corporation of Stafford, for certain charitable purposes ; this son, upon his attainment of that age, without having married, sent to the mayor of Stafford, acquainting him, that the estate was improved to almost double its former value, and that upon his decease the corporation would become entitled thereto. This worthy person died, at the age of sixty-nine, on the 29th day of December, 1719 j and lies interred in the cathe- dral church of Salisbury. Anne, the daughter of old Isaac Walton, and sister of the above person, was married to Dr William Hawkins, a divine and a prebendary of Winchester, mentioned above ; for whom Walton, in his will, expresses great aff'ection, declaring that he loved him as his own son: he died the 17th day of July, 1691, aged fifty-eight, leaving issue, by his said wife, a daughter named Anne, and a son named William. The daughter was never married, but lived with her uncle, the canon, as his housekeeper, and had the management of his domestic con- cerns : she remained settled at Salisbury, after his decease, until the 27th of November, 1728, when she died, and lies buried in the cathedral. William, the son of Dr Hawkins, and brother of the last mentioned Anne, was bred to the study of the law ; and, from the Middle Temple, called to the bar: but attained to no LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 25 degree of eminence in his profession. - He wrote and published in octavo, anno 1713, A short Account of the Life of Bishop Ken, with a small specimen, in order to a publication of his Works at large; and, accordingly, in the year 1721, they were published in four volumes, octavo. From this Account, some of the above particulars respecting the family connections of Walton are taken. I am informed that this gentleman for several years laboured under the affliction of incurable blindness, and that he died on the 29th day of November, 1748. A few months before his death, our Author made his will, which appears, by the peculiarity of many expressions con- tained in it, as well as by the hand, to be of his own WTiting. As there is something characteristic in this last solemn act of his life, it has been thought proper to insert an authentic copy thereof in this account of him ; postponing it only to the following reflections on his life and character. Upon a retrospect of the foregoing particulars, and a view of some others mentioned in a subsequent letter,* and in his will, it will appear that Walton possessed that essential ingredient in human felicity, " mens sana in corpore sano : " for, in his eighty-third year, he professes a resolution to begin a pilgrimage of more than a hundred miles, into a country the most difficult and hazardous that can be conceived for an aged man to travel in., to visit his friend Cotton, f and, doubtless. * See his Letter to Charles Cotton, Esq. prefixed to the Second Part. f To this journey he seems to have been invited by JNIr Cotton, in the following beautiful stanzas, printed with other of his Poems, in 1689, 8vo. and addi'essed to his dear and most worthy friend, Mr Isaac Walton : — Whilst in this cold and blustering clime. Where bleak winds howl and tempests roar. We pass away the roughest time Haa been of many years before. Whilst from the most tempestuous nooks The chillest blasts our peace invade. And by great rains our smallest broolcs Are almost navigableTnade ; Whilst all the ills are so improred. Of this dead quarter of the year. That even you, so much beloved, We would not now wish with us here : In this ettate, I say, it is Some comfort to us to suppose. That, in a better clime than this. You, our dear friend, have more repose ; And some delight to me the while, Though nature now does weep in rain. To think that I have seen her smile, And haply may I do again. 26 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. to enjoy his favourite diversion of angling- in the delightful streams of the Dove, — and on the ninetieth anniversary of his birth -day, he, by his will, declares himself to be of perfect memory.* As to his worldly circumstances, notwithstanding the adverse accident of his being obliged, by the troubles of the times, to quit London, and his occupation, they appear to nave been commensurate, as well to the wishes as the wants of any but a covetous and intemperate man ; and, in his rela- tions and connections, such a concurrence of circumstances is visible, as it would be almost presumption to pray for. For, not to mention the patronage of those many prelates and dignitaries of the church, men of piety and learning, with whom he lived in a close intimacy and friendship ; or the many ingenious and worthy persons with whom he corresponded and conversed; or the esteem and respect, testified by printed letters and eulogiums, which his writings had procured him — to be matched with a woman of an exalted understanding and a mild and humble temper, to have children of good incli- nations and sweet and amiable dispositions, and to see them well settled, — is not the lot of every man that, preferring a social to a solitary life, chooses to become the head of a family. But blessings like these are comparatively light, when If the all-rulins Power please We live to see another May, We '11 recompense an age of these Foul days in one fine fishing day. We then shall have a day or two, Perhaps a week, wherein to try What the best master's hand can do With the most deadly killing fly : A day with not too bright a beam, . A warm, but not a scorching sun, A southern gale to curl the stream, And, master, half our work is done. There, whilst behind some bush we wait The scaly people to betray. We'll prove it just, with treacherous bait To make the preying trout our prey. And think ourselves, in such an hour. Happier than those, though not so high. Who, like leviathans, devour Of meaner men the smaller fry. This, my best friend, at my poor home. Shall be our pastime and our theme ; But then — should you not deign to come, You make all this a flattering dream. * These, it must be owned, are words of course in a will ; but had the fact been otherwise, he would have been unable to make such a judicious disposition of his worldly estate as he had done, or with his own hand to write so Iode: an instrument as his wUl. LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 27 weighed against those of a mind stored, like his, with a great variety of useful knowledge, and a temper that could harbour no malevolent thought or insidious design, nor stoop to the arts of fraud or flattery,* but dispose him to love and virtuous friendship, to the enjoyments of innocent delights and recrea- tions, to the contemplation of the works of Nature and the ways of Providence, and to the still sublimer pleasures of rational piety. If, possessing all these benefits and advantages, external and internal, (together with a mental constitution so happily attempered, as to have been to him a " perpetual fountain of cheerfulness,"-]-) we can entertain a doubt that Walion was one of the happiest of men, we estimate them at a rate too low ; and shew ourselves ignorant of the nature of that felicity to which it is possible, even in this life, for virtuous and good, men, with the blessins: of God, to arrive. COPY OF WALTON'S WILL. August the ninth, one thousand six hundred eighty-thiee. In the Name of God, Amen : I, Izaak Walton the elder, of Winchester, being this present day in the ninetyeth year of my age, and in perfect memory, for which praised be God ; but corisidering how suddenly I may be deprived of both, do there- fore make this my last Wdl and Testament as followeth : And first, 1 do declare my belief to be, that there is only one God, who hath made the whole world, and me, and all mankind ; to whom I shall give an account of all my actions, which are not to be justified, but I hope pardoned,- for the merits of my Saviour Jesus : And because the profession of Christianity does, at this time, seem to be subdivided into Papist and Protestante, I take it at least to be convenient, to declare my belief to be, in all points of faith, as the Church of England now professeth : and this I do the rather, because of a very long and very true friendship with some of the Roman Church. And for my worldly estate, (which I have neither got by false- hood or flattery, or the extreme cruelty of the Jaw of this nation,:]:) 1 do hereby give and bequeath it as followeth : First, , * Vide infra, in his Will. f See his Preface, wherein he declares that though he can be serious at seasonable times, he is a lover of innocent, harmless mirth, and that his book is a " picture of his own disposition." \ Alluding, perhaps, to that fundamental masim of our law, •* Summum jus est summa injuria." 28 LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. I give my son-in-law, Dr Hawkins, and to his wife ; to them I give all my title and right of or in a part of a house and shop, in Paternoster Row, in London, which I hold by lease from the Lord Bishop of London for about fifty years to come. And I do also give to them all my right and title of or to a house in Chancery Lane, London, wherein Mrs Greinwood now dwelleth, in which is now about sixteen years to come : I give these two leases to them, they saving my executor from all damage concerning the same. And I give to my son Izaak all my right and title to a lease of Norington farme, which I hold from the Lord Bishop of Winton : And I do also give him all my right and title to a farme or land near to Stafford, which I bought of Mr Walter Noell ; I say, I give it to him and his heirs for ever ; but upon the condition following, namely, if my son shall not marry before he shall be of age of forty and one years, or, being married, shall dye before the said age, and leave no son to inherit the said farme or land, or if his son or sons shall not live to attain the age of twenty and one years, to dispose otherways of it, — then I give the said farme or land to the towne or corporation of Stafford, in which I was borne, for the good and benefit of some of the said towne, as I shall direct, and as foUoweth, (but first note, that it is at this present time rented for twenty-one pound ten shillings a year, and is like to hold the said rent, if care be taken to keep the barn and housing in repair ;) and I would have, and do give ten pounds of the said rent, to bind out yearly, two boys, the sons of honest and poor parents, to be apprentices to some tradesman or some handy-craft men, to the intent the same boys may the better afterward get their own living. And I do also give five pound yearly, out of the said rent, to be given to some maid-servant, that hath attained the age of twenty and one years, not less, and dwelt long in one service, or to some honest poor man's daughter, that hath attained to that age, to be paid her at or on the day of her marriage : and this being done, my will is, that what rent shall remain of the said farme or land, shall be disposed of as fol- loweth : first, I do give twenty shillings yearly, to be spent by the major of Stafford, and those that shall collect the said rent and dispose of it as I have and shall hereafter direct ; and that what money or rent shall remain undisposed of, shall be employed to buy coals for some poor people, that shall most need them, in the said towne ; the said coals to be delivered the first weeke in January, or in every first week in February ; I say then, because I take that time to be the hardest and most pinching times with poor people ; and God reward those that LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. 29 shall do this without partiality, and with honesty, and a, good conscience. And if the said major and others of the said town of Stafford shall prove so negligent, or dishonest, as not to imploy the rent by me given as intended and expresi in this my will, which God forbid, — then I give the said rants and profits of the said farme, or land, to the towne, and chief magistrates or governors, of Ecleshall, to be disposed of by them in such manner as I have ordered the disposal of it by the towne of Stafford, the said farme or land being near the towne of Ecleshall. And I give to my son-in-law, Dr Hawkins, whom I love as my own son ; and to my daughter, his wife ; and my son Izaak ; to each of them a ring, with these words or motto ; " Love my memory, I. W. obiit ; " to the Lord Bishop of Winton a ring, with this motto : " A mite for a million, L W. obiit ;" and to the friends hereafter named, I give to each of them a ring with this motto : " A friend's farewell, I. W. obiit : " And my will is, the said rings be delivered within forty days after my death ; and that the price or value of all the said rings shall be thirteen shillings and fourpence a-piece. I give to Dr Hawkins, Doctor Donne's Sermons, which I have heard preacht, and read with much content. To my son Izaak, I give Dr Sibbs his " Soul's Conflict;" and to my daughter his " Bruised Reed," * desiring them to read them so as to be well acquainted with them. And I also give unto her all my books at Winchester and Droxford, and whatever in those two places are, or I can call mine, except a trunk of linen, which I give to my son Izaak : but if he do not live to marry, or make use of it, then I give the same to my grandaughter, Anne Hawkins. And I give my daughter Doctor Hall's Works, which be now at Farnham. To my son Izaak I give all my books, not yet given, at Farnham Castell ; and a deske of prints and pictures ; also a cabinett near my bed's head, in which are some little things that he will value, though of no great worth. And my will and desire is, that he shall be kind to his aunt Beachame, and his aunt Rose Ken ; by allowing the first about fifty shillings a-year, in or for bacon and cheese, not more, and paying four pounds a year towards the boarding of her son's dyet to Mr John Whitehead : for his aunt Ken, I desire him to be kind to her according to her necessitie and his own abilitie ; and I commend one of her children, to breed up as I have said I • This book was an instrumait in the conversion of Mr Richard Baxter. S<;e Dr Calamy's Life of him, page 7. so LIFE OF IZAAK WALTON. intend to do, if he shall be able to do it, as I know he^^eni for they be good folke. I give to Mr John Darbyshire pd Sermoni of Mr Anthony Farringdon, or of Dr Sandersoie which f/iy executor thinks fit. To my servant, Thomas Edgill, I give five pound in money, and all my cloths, linen and woollen, except one suit of cloths, which I give to Mr Holinshed, and forty shillings, if the said Thomas be my servant at my death ; if not, my cloths only. And I give ray old friend, Mr Richard Marriot,* ten pounds in money, to be paid him within three months after my death ; and I desire my son to shew kindness to him if he shall neede, and my son can spare it. And I do hereby will and declare my son Izaak to be my sole executor of this my last will and testament ; and Dr Hawkir.s, to see that he performs it ; which I doubt not but he will. I desire my burial m.ay be near the place of my death, and free from any ostentation or charge, but privately. This I make to be my last will, (to which I shall only add the codicil for rings,) this sixteenth day of August, one thousand six hundred eighty-three, Izaak Walton. Witness to this will. The rings I give are as on the other side. To my brother, John Ken ; to my sister, his wife ; to my brother, Doctor Ken ; to my sister Pye ; to Mr Francis Morley ; to Mr George Vernon ; to his wife ; to his three daughters ; to Mistris Nelson ; to Mr Richard Walton ; to Mr Palmer ; to Mr Taylor ; to Mr Thomas Garrard ; to the Lord Bishop of Sarum ; to Mr Rede, his servant ; to my cousin, Dorothy Kenrick ; to my cousin Lewin; to Mr Walter Higgs ; to Mr Charles Cotton; to Mr Richard Marry ot — twenty-two. To my brother Beacham ; to my sister, his wife ; to the Lady Anne How ; to Mrs King, Dr Phillips's wife ; to Mr Valentine Harecourt ; to Mrs Eliza Johnson ; to Mrs Mary Rogers ; to Mrs Eliza Milward ; to Mrs Dorothy WoUop ; to Mr Will. Milward, of Christchurch, Oxford ; to Mr John Darby- shire ; to Mr Undevill ; to Mrs Rock ; to Mr Peter White ; to Mr John Lloyde ; to my cousin, Creinsell's widow ; Mrs Dalbin must not be forgotten — sixteen. Izaak Walton. Note, that several lines are blotted out of this will, for they were twice repeated, — and that this will is now signed and sealed this twenty and fourth day of October, one thousand six hundred eighty-three, in the presence of us : Witness, Abraham Markland, Jos. Taylor, Thomas Crawley. • Bookseller, and his Publisher.. shall con of THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL JOHN OFFLEY, ESQ. OF MADELT MANOR, IN THE COUNTY OF STAFFORD. MY MOST HONOURED FRIEND, Sir, — I have made so ill use of your former favours, as by them to be encouraged to entreat, that they may be enlarged to the patronage and protection of this book : and I have put on a modest confidence that shall not be denied, because it is a discourse of fish and fishmg, which you know so well, and both love and practise so much. You are assured, though there be ignorant men of another behef, that angling is an art, and you know that art better than others ; and that this truth is demonstrated by the fruits of that pleasant labour which you enjoy, when you purpose to give rest to your mind, and divest yourself of your more serious business, and (which is often) dedicate a day or two to this recreation. At which time, if common anglers should attend you, and be eye- witnesses of the success, nut of your fortune, but your skill, it would doubtless beget in them an emulation to be like you, and that emulation might beget an industrious diligence to be so ; but I know it is not attainable by common capacities. And there be now many men of great wisdom, learning, and experience, which love and practise this art, that know I speak the truth. Sir, this pleasant curiosity of fish and fishing, of which you are so great a master, has been thought worthy the pens and practices of divers in other nations, that have been reputed men of great learning and wisdom. And amongst those of this nation, I remember Sir Henry Wotton( a dear lover of this art) has told me, that his intentions were to write a discourse 32 EPISTLE DEDICATORY. of the art, and in praise of angling ; and doubtless he had done so if death had not prevented him ; the remembrance of which hath often made me sorry ; for if he had lived to do it, then the unlearned angler had seen some better treatise of this art, a treatise that might have proved worthy his perusal, which, though some have undertaken, I could never yet see in English. But mine may be thought as weak and as unworthy of common view ; and I do here freely confess, that I should rather excuse myself than censure others, my own discourse being liable to so many exceptions ; against which you, sir, might make one, that it can contribute nothing to your knowledge. And, lest a longer epistle may diminish your pleasure, I shall make this no longer than to add this following truth, that I am, really, sir, your most affectionate friend, and most humble servant, IzAAK Walton. TO ALL READERS OF THIS DISCOURSE, BUI ESFECIALLT TO THE HONEST ANGLER. I THINK fit to tell thee these following truths, that I did neither undertake, nor write, nor publish, and much less own, this discourse to please myself: and having been too easily drawn to do all to please others, as I propose not the gaining of credit by this undertaking, so I would not willingly lose any part of that to which I had a just title before I begun it, and do therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not commenda- tions, yet I may obtain pardon. And though this discourse may be liable to some exceptions, yet I cannot doubt but that most readers may receive so much pleasure or profit by it, as may make it worthy the time of their perusal, if they be not too grave or too busy men. And this is all the confidence that I can put on, concerning the merit of what is here offered to their considera- tion and censure ; and if the last prove too severe, as I have a liberty, so I am resolved to use it, and neglect all sour censures. And I wish the reader also to take notice, that in writing of it, I have made myself a recreation of a recreation ; and that it might prove so to him, and not read dull and tediously, I have in several places mixed, not any scurrility, but some innocent, harmless mirth, of which, if thou be a EPISTLE TO THE READER. 33 severe, sour complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a compe- tent judge ; for divines say, there are offences givcn, and oflEences not- given, but taken. And I am the willinger to justify the pleasant part of it, because though it is known I can be serious at all seasonable times, yet the whole discourse is, or rather was, a picture of my own disposition, espec ally in such days and times as I have laid aside business, and gone a-fishing with honest Nat. and R. Roe ; * but they are gone, and with them most of my pleasant hours, even as a shadow that passeth away, and returns not. And next let me add this, that he that likes not the book, should like the excellent picture of the Trout, and some of the other fish ; which I may take a liberty to commend, because they concern not myself. Next let me tell the reader, that in that wliich is the more useful part of this discourse, that is to say, the observations of the nature and breed- ing, and seasons, and catching of fish, I am not so simple as not to know, that a captious reader may find exceptions against something said of some of these ; and therefore I must entreat him to consider, that experience teaches us to know that several countries alter the time, and I think, almost the manner, of fishes' breedine, but doubtless of their being in season ; as may appear bv three rivers in Monmouthshire, namely, Severn, Wye, and Usk, where Camden, Brit. f. 633, observes, that in the river Wye salmon are in season from Septeml)er to April ; and we are certain, that in Thames and Trent, and in most other rivers, they be in season the six hotter montlis. Now for the art of catching fish, that is to say, how to make a man that was none, to be an angler by a book ; he that undertakes it, shall undertake a harder task than IMr Ha'es, a most valiant and excellent fencer, who, in a printed book called '* A Private School of Defence," undertook to teach that art or science, and was laughed at for his labour. Not but that many useful things might be learned by that book ; but he was laughed at because that art was not to be taught by words, but practice : and so must angling. And note also, that in this discourse I do not undertake to say all that is known, or may be said of it, but I undertake to acquaint the reader with many things that are not usually known to every angler; and I shall leave gleanings and observations enough to be made out of the experience of all that love and practise this recreation, to which I shall encourage them. For angling may be said to be so like the mathematics, that it can never be fully learnt; at least not so fully, but that there will still be more new experiments left for the trial of other men that succeed us. * Thesp persons are supposed to have been related to Walton, from the circumstance of a. eopy, handed down, of his Lives of Donne, Sir H. fVotton, Hooker, and Herbert, wherein ia written by the author on the frontispiece. For my Coutin Roe. C 34 EPISTLE TO THE READER. But I think all that love this game may here learn something that may be worth their money, if they be not poor and needy men : and in case they be, I then wish them to forbear to buy it ; for I write not to get money, but for pleasure, and this discourse boasts of no more; for I hate to promise much, and deceive the reader. And however it proves to him, yet I am sure I have found a high con- tent in the search and conference of what is here offered to the reader's view and censure : I wish him as much in the perusal of it, and so I might here take my leave ; but will stay a little and tell him, that whereas it is said by many, that in fly-fishing for a trout, the angler must observe his twelve several flies for the twelve months of the year, — I say, he that follows that rule shall be as sure to catch fish, and be as wise as he that makes hay by the fair days in an almanack, and no surer ; for those very flies that used to appear about and on the water in one month of the year, may, the following year, come almost a month sooner or later, as the same year proves colder or hotter ; and yet, in the following Discourse, I have set down the twelve flies that are in reputation with many anglers ; and they may serve to give him some observations concerning them. And he may note, that there are in Wales, and other countries, peculiar flies, proper to the particular place or country ; and, doubtless, unless a man makes a fly to counterfeit that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his labour, or much of it ; but for the generality, three or four flies, neat and rightly made, and not too big, serve for a trout in most rivers all the summer ; and for winter fly-fishing, is as useful as an almanack out of date. And of these, because as no man is born an artist, so no man b born an angler, I thought fit to give thee this notice. When I have told the reader, that in this fifth* impression there are many enlargements, gathered both by my own observation, and the com- munication with friends, I shall stay him no longer than to wish him a rainy evening to read this following discourse ; and that, if he be an honest angler, the east wind may never blow when he goes a-fishing. L W. « The fifth, as it is the last of the editions published in the authot's lifetime, Imw been care- fully followed in the present publication. — See the Author's Life. COMMENDATORY VERSES. TO MY DEAR BROTHER, IZAAK WALTON, UPON HIS COMPLETE AKGLER. Erasmus, in his learned Colloquies, Has mix'd some toys, tnat, by varieties, He might entice all readers : for in him Each child may wade, or tallest giant swim. And such is this discourse : there 's none so low, Or highly learn'd, to whom hence may not flow- Pleasure and information ; both which are Taught us with so much art, that I might swear Safely, the choicest critic cannot tell Whether your matchless judgment most excel In angling or its praise ; where commendation First charms, then makes an art a recreation. 'Twas so to me ; who saw the cheerful spring Pictured in every meadow ; heard birds sing Sonnets in every grove ; saw fishes play In the cool crystal streams, like lambs in May : And they may play, till anglers read this book ; But after, 'tis a wise fish 'scapes a hook. Jo. Floud, Master of Arts. TO THE READER OF THE COMPLETE ANGLER. First, mark the title well ; my friend that gave it Has made it good ; this book deserves to have it ; For he that views it with judicious looks. Shall find it full of art, baits, lines, and hooks. The world the river is ; both you and I, And all mankind, are either fish or fry. If we pretend to reason, first or last, His baits will tempt us, and his hooks holdfast. Pleasure or profit, either prose or rhyme, If not at first, will doubtless take in time. Here sits, in secret, bless'd Theology, Waited upon by grave Philosophy — Both natural and moral ; History, Deck'd and adorn'd with flowers of Poetry, The matter and expression striving which Shall most excel in worth, yet not seem rich. There is no danger in his baits ; that hook Will prove the safest that is surest took. 36 COMMENDATORY VERSES. For are we caught alone, but, which is best, We shall be wholesome, and be toothsome dress'd ; Dress'd to be fed, not to be fed upon : And danger of a surfeit here is none. The solid food of serious contemplation Is sauced here, with such harmless recreation, That an ingenuous and religious mind Cannot inquire for more than it may find Ready at once prepared, either t' excite Or satisfy a curious appetite. More praise is due : for 'tis both positive And truth, which once was interrogative, And utter'd by the poet, then, in jest, — £t piscatorem piscis amare potest. Ch. Harvie,* Master of Art$. 10 MY DEAR FRIEND, MR TZAAK WALTON, IX PRAISE OF X-xaLlUa, WniCH -WK BOTH LOTE. Down by this smooth stream's wandering side, Adorn'd and perfumed with the pride Of Flora's wardrobe, where the shiill Aerial choir express their skill, First, in alternate melody, And then in chorus all agree. « Whilst the charm'd fish, as ecstasied With sounds, to his own throat denied,2 Scorns his dull element, and springs r th' air, as if his fins were wings. 'Tis here that pleasures sweet and high Prostrate to our embraces lie : Such as to body, soul, or fame, Create no sickness, sin, or shame : Roses, not fenced with pricks, ^row here ; No sting to th' honey bag is near : But, what 's perhaps their prejudice, They difficulty want and price. An obvious rod, a twist of hair, With hook hid in an insect, are Engines of sport would fit the wish O' th* epicure, and fill his dish. In this clear stream kt fall a grub. And straight take up a dace or chub. 1' th' mud, your worm provokes a snig. Which being fa^t, if it prove big, The Gotham folly will be found Discreet, ere ta'en she must be drown'd. The tench, physician of the brook. In yon dead hole expects your hook : * Supposed to be Christopher Harvie, for. whom see Athen. Ojcon. rol. L et vide infra, chap, t. COMMENDATORY VERSES. •»7 Which, having first your pastime been, Serves then for meat or medicine. Ambush'd behind that root doth stay A pike ; to catch, and be a prey. The treacherous quill in this slow stream Betrays the hunger of a bream. And at that nimble ford, no doubt, Your false fly cheats a speckled ^rout. When you these creatures wisely choose To practise on, which to your use Owe their creation, and when Fish from your arts do rescue men, To plot, delude, and circumvent. Ensnare, and spoil, is innocent. Here by these crystal streams you may Preserve a conscience clear as they ; And when by sullen thoughts you find Your harassed, not busied, mind In sable melancholy clad, Distemper'd, serious, turning sad ; Hence fetch your cure, cast in your bait, All anxious thoughts and cares will straight Fly with such speed, they '11 seem to be Possess'd with the hydrophohie : The water's calmness in your breast, And smoothness on your brow, shall rest. Away with sports of charge and noise, And give me cheap and silent joys ; Such as Actaeon's gam « pursue, Their fate oft makes the tale seem true. The sick or sullen hawk, to-day. Flies not ; to-morrow, quite away. Patience and purse to cards and aice Too oft are made a sacrifice : The daughter's dower, th' inheritance O' th' son, depend on one mad chance. The harms and mischiefs which th' abuse Of wine doth every day produce. Make good the doctrine of the Turks, That in each grape a devil lurks. And by yon fading sapless tree, 'Bout which the ivy twined you see, His fate 's foretold, who fondly places His bliss in woman's soft embraces : All pleasures, but the angler's, bring r the tail repentance, like a sting. Then on these banks let me sit down, Free fiom the toilsome sword and gown ; And pity those that do affect To conquer nations and protect. My reed affords such true content. Delights so sweet and innocent. As seldom fall unto the lot Of sceptres, though they 're justly got. 1 349. Tho. Weaver, l^Iaster of Art$. d6 COMMENDATORY VERSES. TO THE READERS OF MY MOST INGBNUOUS PRIEND's BOOK, "THE COMPLETE ANGLER." Hk that both knew and writ the Lives of men. Such as were once, but must not be again ; "Witness his matchless Donne and Wotton, by Whose aid he could their speculations try : He that conversed with angels, such as were Ouldsworth * and Featly,f each a shining star Shewing the way to Bethlem ; each a saint. Compared to whom our zealots, now, but paiat : He that our pious and learn'd Morley ^ knew, And from him suck'd wit and devotion too : He that from these such excellencies fetch'd, That He could tell how high and fir they reach'd ; What learning this, what graces th' other had ; And in what several dress each soul was clad : Reader, this He, this fisherman, comes forth, And in these fisher's weeds would shroud his worth. Now his mute harp is on a willow hung, With which, when finely touch'd and fitly strung, He could friends' passions for these times allay, Or chain his fellow anglers from their prey. But now the music of his pen is still. And he sits by a brook watching a quill, Where with a fix'd eye and a ready hand, He studies first to hook, and then to land Some Trout, or Perch, or Pike ; and having done. Sits on a bank, and tells how this was won, And that escaped his hook, which with a wile Did eat the bait, and fisherman beguile. Thus whilst some vex'd they from their lands are thrown, He joys to think the waters are his own ; And like the Dutch, he gladly can agree To live at peace now, and have fishing free. April 3, 1650. Edv. Powell, Master of Arts. TO MY DEAR BROTHER, MR IZAAK WALTON, ON HIS COMPLETE AKGLER. This book is so like you, and you like it. For harmless mirth, expression, art, and wit, That I protest, ingenuously 'tis true, I love this mirth, art, wit, the book, and you. Rob. Floud, C. LAUDATORUM CARMINA. clarissimo amicissimoque fratrx, domino isaaco walton, ARTIS PISCATORI.S PERITISSIMO. Unicus est medicus reliquorum piscis, et istis. Fas quibus est medicum tangere, certa salus. » Dr Richard Holdsworth. See an account of him in the Fatti Oxon. S07 ; and in Ward's /-i>« o/ Me Gresham Professor t. t Dr Daniel Featly, for whom Bee Athen. Oron. 603. 1 Dr George Morley, bishop of Winchester, COMMENDATORY VERSES. 39 Hie ty'pus est salvatoris mirandus Jesu, • Litera mysterkim quaelibet hujus habet. Hunc cupio, hunc capias (bone frater arundinis,) f Solveret hie pro me debita, teque Deo. [;;^^«/y : Piscis is est, at piscator, mihi credito, qualem Vel piscatorem piscis amare velit, Hbnry Bailet, Artium Magitter. AD VIRUM OPTIMUM ET FISCATORKM FERITISSIMUM, ISAACUM WALTONUM. Magister artis docte piscatoriae, Waltone, salve ! magne dux arundinis, Seu tu reducta valle solus ambulas, Praeterfluentes interim observans aquas. Seu fortfe puri stans in amnis margine, Sive in tenaci gramine et ripi sedens, Fallis peiita squameum pecus manu ; O te beatum ! qui procul negotiis, Forique et urbis pulvere et strepitu carens, Extraque turbam, ad len^ manantes aquas Vagos honesta ftaude pisces decipis. Dum caetera ergo pen^ gens mortal ium Aut retia invicem sibi et technas struunt, Donis, ut hamo, aut Divites captant senes ; Gregi natantum tu interim nectis dolos, Voracem inescas advenam hamo lucium, Avidamv^ percam parvulo alburno capis, Autverme rufFo, musculi aut truttam levi, Cautumvfe cyprinum, et fere indocil«*m capi Calamoque linoque, ars et hunc superat tua ; Medicamv^ tincam, gobium aut esca trahis, Gratum palato gobium, parvum lic^t ; Praedamve, non aeque salubrem barbulum, Etsi ampliorem, et mystace insignem gravi. Hae s;mt tibi artes, dum annus et tempus sinunt, Et nulla transit absque linei dies. ]Vec sola praxis, sed theoria et tibi Nota artis hujus ; unde tu simul bonus Piscator, idem et sci iptor ; et calami potens Utri usque necdum et ictus, et tamen sapis. Ut hamiotam nempe tironem instruas ! IXeT2 PISCIS. I 'Ivtrovf X XpiffTOi e SioZ, Jesus. Christus. Dei. T 'T/oj, Filius. S 24»T«^ Salvator. t Matt. xvii. 27. the last words of the chapter. 40 LAUDATORUM CARMINA. Stylo eleganti scribis en Halieutica Oppianus alter, artis et raethodum tua?, et Praecepta promis rit^ piscatoria, Varias et eseas piscium, indolem, et genus. Nee tradere arteni sat putas piscariam (Virtutis est haec et tamen qusedam schola Patientiamque et temperantiam docet;) Documenta quin majoia das, et regulaa Sublimioris artis, et perennia Moninienta morum, vitae et exempla optima ; Dura tu profundum scribis Hookerum, et pium Donnum ac disertum ; sanctum et Herbertum, sacrum Vatem ; bos videmus nam penicillo tuo Graphic^, et perita, Isaace, depletes manu. Post fata factos hosce per te Virbios ! * O quae voluptas est legere in scriptis tuis ! Sic tu libris nos, lineis pisces capis. Musisque litterisque dum incumbis, licet Intentus hamo, interque piscandum studes. ALIUD AD ISAACUM WALTONUM, VIRUM ET PISCATOREM OPTIMDM. Isaace, Macte hac arte piscatoria ; Hac arte Petrus principi censum dedit; Hac arte princeps nee Petro multo prior, Tranquillus ille, teste Tranquilio,f pater Patriae, solebat recreare se lubens Augustus, bamo instructus ac arundine. Tu nunc. Amice, proxkiium dari es decus * Post Caesarera hami, gentis ac Halieuticae ; Euge, O professor, artis baud ingloriae. Doctor cathedrae, perlegens piscariam ! !Nae tu niagister, et ego discipulus tuus, Nam candidatum et me ferunt arundinis, Socium hac in arte nobilem nacti sumus. Quid amplius, Waltone, nam dici potest? Ipse hamiota Dominus en orbis fuit ! Jaco. Dup. \ D. D. * " Virbius, quasi bU vir," is an epithet applied to Hippclytus, because he was by Diana restored to life after his death. Vide Ovidii Met. lib. xv. v. KJS, ct seq. Hoffmanni " Lexicon Universale," art. Virbius. In this place it is meant to express, that by Walton's skill in bio- graphy, those persons whose lives he has written are ro accurately represented, as that, even after their deaths, they are a^ain, as it were, brought to life. t «. e. Suetonius Tranquillus. X The contracting of surnames is a faulty practice ; the above might stand for " Duppa," but signifies " Duport." This person was a Fellow of Trinitv College, Cambridge, and Pro- fessor of Greek in that University. His father, John, had a hand in the translation of King James's Bible. — Fuller's Ch. Hist, book x. p. 46. Dr J.imes Duport wrote also the Latin verses preceding these ; and both copies are extant in a volume of Latin poemt by him, «n- titied " Musa: Subsecivx," printed at Cambridge, in 8vo. 1676. COMPLETE ANGLER. PART FIRST. CHAPTER I. CONFERENCE BETWIXT AN ANGLER, A HUNTER, AND A FALCONER | EACH COMMENDING HIS RECREATION. PISCATOR, VENATOR, AUCEPS. Piscator. You are well overtaken, gentlemen! A good morning to you both ! I have stretched my legs up Tottenham Hill to overtake you, hoping your business may occasion you towards Ware, whither I am going this fine fresh May morning. Venator. Sir, I for my part shall almost answer your hopes ; for my purpose is to drink my morning's draught at the Thatched House in Hodsden, and I think not to rest till I come thither, where I have appointed a friend or two to meet me ; but for this gentleman that you see with me, I know not how far he intends his journey : he came so lately into my company that I have scarce had time to ask him the question. Auceps. Sir, I shall by your favour bear you company as far as Theobald's, * and there leave you ; for then I turn up to a friend's house, who mews f a hawk for me, which I now long to see. Venator. Sir, we are all so happy as to have a fine, fresh, cool morning; and I hope we shall each be the happier in the » Theobald's, in the county of Hertford, a house built by Lord Burleigh, and much improved by his son, IJob rt, Earl of Salisbury, who exchanged it with King James the First for Hallield.— Camden's Brit. Hertfordshire. + Mew signifies to moult, and hence we understand, that the friend of Auceps kept his hawk while it moulted. — J. R. 42 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Other's company. And, gentlemen, that I may not lose yours, I shall either abate or amend my pace to enjoy it, knowing that, as the Italians say, good company in a joiu-ney makes the way to seem the shorter. Auceps. It may do so, sir, with the help of good discourse, which, methinks, we may promise from you, that both look and speak so cheerfully : and for my part, I promise you, as an invitation to it, that I ^vill be as free and open-hearted as dis- cretion will allow me to be with strangers. Venator. And, sir, I promise the like. Piscator. I am right glad to hear your answers ; and in confidence you speak the truth, I shall put on a boldness to ask you, sir, whether business or pleasure caused you to be so early up, and walk so fast ? for this other gentleman hath declared he is going to see a hawk that a friend mews for him. Venator. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little business and more pleasure ; for I intend this day to do all my business, an^ then bestow another day or two in hunting the otter, which a friend that I go to meet tells me is much pleasanter than any Other chase whatsoever : howsoever, I mean to try it ; for to-morrow morning we shall meet a pack of otter dogs of noble Mr Saddler's,* upon Am well Hill, who \vill be there so early that they intend to prevent the sun rising. Piscator. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires, and my purpose is to bestow a day or two in helping to destroy some of those villainous vermin ; for I hate them perfectly, because they love fish so well, or rather, because they destroy so much ; indeed so much that, in my judgment, all men that keep otter dogs ought to have pensions from the king, to encourage them to destroy the very breed of those base otters, they do so much mischief. Venator. But what say you to the foxes of the nation, would not you as willingly have them destroyed ? for doubtless they do as much mischief as otters do. Piscator. Oh, sir, if they do it, it is not so much to me and my fraternity, as those base vermin the otters do. Auceps. Why, sir, I pray of what fraternity are you, that you are so angry with the poor otters ? Piscator. I am, sir, a brother of the angle, and therefore an enemy to the otter : for you are to note, that w^e anglers * Sir Henry Chauncy, in speaking' of this gentleman, says, that, " he dplighted much in h;iwkinff and hunting, and the pleasures of a country life ; was famous for his noble tal)ie, his great hospitality to his neighbours, and his abundant charity to the poor ; and, after he had lived to a great age, died on the 12th dav of February, 16(i0, without issue; whereupon this manor descended to Walttr Lord Aston, thi- son and heir of Gertrude, his sister." Historical Antiquities of Hertfordshire, p. 5219. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 43 all love one another, and therefore do I hate the otter both for my own and for tlieir sakes who are of my brotherhood. Venator. And I am a lover of hounds : i have followed many a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard many merry himtsmen make sport and scoff at anglers. Auccps. And I profess myself a falconer, and have heard many grave, serious men pity them, it is such a heavy, contemp- tible, dull, recreation. Piscator. You know, gentlemen, it is an easy thing to scoff at any art or recreation ; a little wit mixed with ill-nature, confi- dence, and malice, will do it ; but though they often venture boldly, yet they are often caught, even in their own trap, according to that of Lucian, the father of the family of scoffers : Lncian, well skill'd in scoffing-, this hath writ, — Friend, that 's your folly which you think your wit ; This, you vent oft, void both of wit and fear. Meaning another when yourself you jeer. If to this you add what Solomon says of scoffers, that they are an abomination to mankind, let him that thinks fit scoff on, and be a scoffer still ; but I account them enemies to me and to all that love virtue and angling. And for you that have heard many grave, serious men pity anglers ; let me tell you, sir, there be many men that are by others taken to be serious and grave men, which we contemn and pity. Men that are taken to be grave, because nature hath made them of a sour complexion — money-getting men, men that spend all their time, first in getting, and next in anxious care to keep it — men that are condemned to be rich, and then always busy or discontented: for these poor rich men, we anglers pity them perfectly, and stand in no need to borrow their thoughts to think ourselves so happy. No, no, sir ! we enjoy a contentedness above the reach of such dispositions, and, as the learned and ingenuous Montaigne* says, like himself, freely, " When my cat and I entertain each other with mutual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who knows but that I make my cat more sport than she makes me ? Shall I conclude her to be simple, that has her time to begin or refuse to play as freely as I myself have ? Nay, who know^s but that it is a defect of my not understanding her language (for doubtless cats talk and reason with one another) that w^e agree no better? and who knows but that she pities me for being no \viser than to play with her, and laughs and censures my folly for making sport for her, when we two play together ? " , Thus freely speaks Montaigne concerning cats ; and I hope I may take as great a liberty to blame any man, and laugh at him ♦ In Apology for Rainumd de Sebonde. 44 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. too, let him be never so grave, that hath not heard what anglers can say in the justification of their Art and Recreation ; which I may again tell you, is so full of pleasure, that we need not borrow their thoughts to ' oink ourselves happy. Venator. Sir, you have almost amazed me ; for, though I am no scoffer, yet I have — I pray let me speak it without offence — always looked upon anglers as more patient and more simple men than, I fear, I shall find you to be. Piscator. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestness to be impatience : and for my simplicity, if by that you mean a harmlessness, or that simplicity which was usually found in the primitive Christians, who were, as most anglers are, quiet men, and followers of peace — men that were so simply wise as not to sell their consciences to buy riches, and with them vexation and a fear to die, — if you mean such simple men as lived in those times when there were fewer lawyers — when men might have had a lordship safely conveyed to them in a piece of parchment no bigger than your hand, though several sheets will not do it safely in this wiser age, — I say, sir, if you take us anglers to be such simple men as I have spoke of, then myself and those of my profession will be glad to be so understood : But if by simplicity you meant to express a general defect in those that profess and practise the excellent art of angling, 1 hope in time to disabuse you,' and make the contrary appear so evidently, that if you Anil but have patience to hear me, I shall remove all the anticipations that discourse, or time, or prejudice, have possessed you with against that laudable and ancient art ; for I know it is worthy the knowledge and practice of a vjdse man. But, gentlemen, though I be able to do this, I am not so immannerly as to engross all the discourse to myself; and, there- fore, you two having declared yourselves, the one to be a lover of haM'ks, the other of hounds, I shall be most glad to hear what you can say in the commendation of that recreation which each of you love and practise ; and having heard what you can say, I shall be glad to exercise your attention with what I can say concerning my own recreation and art of angling, and, by this means, Ave shall make the way to seem the shorter ; and if you like my motion, I woidd have Mr Falconer to begin. Auceps. Your motion is consented to with all my heart ; and to testify it, I will begin as you have desired me. And first, for the element that 1 use to trade in, which is the air, an element of more worth than weight, an element that doubtless exceeds both the earth and water ; for though I some- times deal in both, yet the air is most properly mine — land my hawks use that most, and it yields us most recreation : it stops not the high soaring of my noble generous falcon ; in it she THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 45 ascends to such a height as the dull eyes of beasts and fish are not able to reach to ; their bodies are too gross for such high elevations : in the air my troops of hawks soar up on high, and when they are lost in the sight of men, then they attend upon and converse with the gods ; therefore I think my eagle is so justly styled Jove's servant in ordinary : and that very falcon that I am now going to see, deserves no meaner a title, for she usually in her flight endangers herself, like the son of Daedalus, to have her wings scorched by the sun's heat, she flies so near it ; but her mettle makes her careless of danger, for she then heeds nothing, but makes her nimble pinions cut the fluid air, and so makes her highway over the steepest mountains and deepest rivers, and, in her glorious career, looks with contempt upon those high steeples and magnificent palaces which we adore and wonder at ; from which height I can make her to descend, by a word from my mouth, (which she both knows and obeys,) to accept of meat from my hand, to own me for her master, to go home with me, and be willing the next day to afford me the like recreation. And more : this element of air, which I profess to trade in, the worth of it is such, and it is of such necessity, that no creature whatsoever — not oiUy those numerous creatm*es that feed on the face of the earth, but those various creatures that have their dwelling within the waters, every creature that hath life in its nostrils, stands in need of my element. The waters cannot preserve the fish without air, \vitness the not breaking of ice in an extreme frost ; the reason is, for that if the inspiring and expiring organ of any animal be stopped, it suddenly yields to nature and dies. Thus necessary is air to the existence both of fish and beasts, nay, even to man himself; that air, or breath of life, with which God at first inspired mankind, he, if he wants it, dies presently, becomes a sad object to all that loved and beheld him, and in an instant turns to putrefaction. Nay, more, the very birds of the air, those that be not hawks, are both so many, and so useful and pleasant to mankind, that I must not let them pass without some observations : they both feed and refresh him ; feed him with their choice bodies, and refresh him with their heavenly voices : * I wiU not undertake to mention the several kinds of fowl by which this is done : and his curious palate pleased by day, and which wth their very excre- ments afford him a soft lodging at night. These I will pass by, * To these particulars may be added, that the kings of Persia were wont to hawk after butterflies with sparrows and stares, or starlings, trained for the purpose. — Burton on Melancholy, 1651, p. 268. from the relations of Sir Anthony Shirley. And we are also told, that M. de Lui^;nes, (afterwards prime minister of Frant-e,) in the nonage of Louis XIIl, gained much upon nim by making hawks catch little birds, and by making some of those littl* birds again catch butterflies, — ii/e of Lord Herbert ofCherbury, p 134. 46 The complete angler. but not those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art. As first the lark, when she means to rejoice ; to cheer herself and those that hear her ; she then quits the earth and sings as she ascends higher into the air, and having ended her heavenly employment, grows then mute and sad, to think she must descend to the dull earth, which she would not touch, but for necessity. How do the blackbird and throssel,* with their melodious voices, bid welcome to the cheerful Spring, and in their fixed months warble forth such ditties as no art or instrument can reach to ! Nay, the smaller birds also do the like in their particular seasons, as namely the laverock,f the titlark, the little linnet, and the honest robin, that loves mankind both alive and dead. But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight, when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say, " Lord, what music has thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou afibrdest bad men such music on earth ! " And this makes me the less to wonder at the many aviaries in Italy, or at the great charge of Varro his aviary, the ruins of which are yet to be seen in Rome, and is still so famous there, that it is reckoned for one of those notables which men of foreign nations either record or lay up in their memories when they retiu*n from travel. This for the birds of pleasure, of which very much more might be said. My next shall be of birds of political use. I think 'tis not to be doubted that swallows have been taught to carry letters between two armies. But 'tis certain, that when the Turks besieged Malta or Rhodes — I now remember not which it was — pigeons are then related to carry and recarry letters : and Mr G. Sandys, in his Imvels, relates it to be done betwixt Aleppo and Babylon. But if that be disbelieved, it is not to be doubted that the dove was sent out of the ark by Noah, to give him notice of land, when to him all appeared to be sea ; and the dove proved a faithful and comfortable messenger. And for the sacrifices of the law, a pair of turtle-doves, or young pigeons, were as well accepted as costly bulls and rams. " And when God would feed the prophet Elijah," 1 Kings xvii. after a kind of miraculous manner, he did it by ravens, who brought him meat morning and ♦ The song^ thrush, (turdus musicui.) — J. R. t The skylark. Walton's name, laverock, is still common in Scotland. —J. R, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 47 evening. Lastly, the Holy Ghost, when he descended visibly upon our Saviour, did it by assuming the shape of a dove. And, to conclude this part of my discourse, pray remember these wonders were done by birds of the air, the element in which they and I take so much pleasure. There is also a little contemptible winged creature, an inhabi- tant of my aerial element, namely, the laborious bee, of whose prudence, policy, and regular government of their own common- wealth, I might say much, as also of their several kinds, and how useful their honey and wax are both for meat and medicines to mankind ; but I will leave them to their sweet labour, >vithout the least disturbance, believing them to be all very busy at this very time amongst the herbs and flowers that we see nature puts forth this May morning. And now to return to my hawks, from whom I have made too long a digression : you are to note, that they are usually distinguished into two kinds, namely, the long-winged and the short-Minged hawk ; of the first kind, there be chiefly in use amongst us in this nation, the Gerfalcon and Jerkin, the Falcon and Tassel-gentel, the Laner and Laneret, the Bockerel and Bockeret, the Saker and Sacaret, the Merlin and Jack Merlin, the Hobby and Jack. There is the Stelletto of Spain, the Blood-red Rook from Turkey, the Waskite fronj Virginia. And there is of short-winged hawks, the Eagle and Iron, the Goshawk and Tarcel, the Sparhawk and Musket, the French Pye, of two sorts. These are reckoned hawks of note and worth ; but we have also of an inferior rank, the Stanyel, the Ringtail, the Raven, the Buzzard, the Forked Kite, the Bald Buzzard, the Hen- driver, and others that I forbear to name. Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discoiKse to the observation of the Eires, the Brancher, the Ramish Hawk, the Haggard, and the two sorts of Lentners, and then treat of their several ayries, their mewings, rare order of casting, and the renovation of their feathers — their reclaiming, dieting, and then come to their rare stories of practice, — I say, if I should enter into these and many other observations that I could make, it would be much, very much pleasure to me : but lest I should break the rules of civility with you, by taking up more than the proportion of time allotted to me, I will here break off, and entreat you, Mr Venator, to say what you are able in the commendation of hunting, to which you are so much affected ; and if time will serve, I will beg your favour for a farther enlargement of some of those several heads of which I have spoken. But no more at present. Venator. Well, sir, and I vrill now take my turn, and will 48 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. first begin with a commendation of the earth, as you have done most excellently of the air ; the earth being that element upon which I drive my pleasant, wholesome, hungry trade. The earth is a solid settled element ; an element most universally beneficial both to man and beast ; to men who have their several recreations upon it, as horse races, hunting, sweet smells, pleasant walks : the earth feeds man and all those several beasts that both feed him and afford him recreation. What pleasure doth man take in hunting the stately stag, the generous buck, the vidld boar, the cunning otter, the crafty fox, and the fearful hare ! And if I may descend to a lower game, what pleasure is it sometimes with gins to betray the very vermin of the earth! as namely, the Fichat, the Fulimart, the Ferret, the Polecat,* the Mouldwarp,f and the like creatures that live upon the face and within the bowels of the earth. How doth the earth bring forth herbs, flowers, and fruits, both for physic and the pleasure of mankind ; and above all, to me at least, the fruitful vine, of which when I drink moderately, it clears my brain, cheers my heart, and sharpens my wit. How could Cleopatra have feasted Mark Antony with eight wild boars roasted whole at one supper, and other meat suitable, if the earth had not been a bountiful mother ? But to pass by the mighty Elephant, which the earth breeds and nourisheth, and descend to the least of creatures, how doth the earth afford us a doctrinal example in the little Pismire, who, in the summer, provides and lays up her Avinter provision, and teaches man to do the like ! J The earth feeds and carries those horses that carry us ! If I would be prodigal of my time and your patience, what might not I say in commenda- tions of the earth, that puts limits to the proud and raging sea, and by that means preserves both man and beast that it destroys them not, as we see it daily doth those that venture upon the sea, and are there shipwrecked, drowned, and left to feed haddocks ; when we that are so wise as to keep ourselves on earth, walk, and talk, and live, and eat, and drink, and go a-hunting ; of which recreation I will say a little, and then leave Mr Piscator to the commendation of Angling. Hunting is a game for princes and noble persons. It hath been highly prized in all ages : it was one of the qualifications that Xenophon bestowed on his Cyrus, that he was a hunter of wild beasts. Hunting trains up the younger nobility to the use of manly exercises in their riper age. What more manly exercise than hunting the wild boar, the stag, the buck, the fox, or the • The fitchet, or fitrhow ; the fulimart, or fnmart ; the ferret, and the polecat, appear to be all the same species, {wttstelu pvtorms.) — J. R. f The mole, still called mouduwart in Scotland. — J. R, X This is a popular mistake. Ants remain torpid, or nearly so, during winter, and do not then eat, as I have repeatedly proved, by opening their- nests, in which I never could detect any winter provision of food. — J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 49 hare ? How doth it preserve health, and increase strength and activity ! And for the dogg that we use, who can commend their excellency to that height which they deserve ! How perfect is the hound at smelling, who never leaves or forsakes his first scent, but follows it through so many changes and varieties of Other scents, even over and in the water, and into the earth ! What music doth a pack of dogs then make to any man, whose heart and ears are so happy as to be set to the tune of such instnmients ! Hov/ will a right greyhound fix his eye on the best buck in a herd, single him out, and follow him, and him only, through a whole herd of rascal game, and still know and then kill him ! For my hounds, I know the language of them, and they know the language and meaning of one another as perfectly as we know the voices of those with whom we dis- course daily. I might enlarge myself in the commendation of hunting, and of the noble hound especially, as also of the docibleness of dogs in general ; and I might make many observations of land creatures, that, for composition, order, figure, and constitution, approach nearest to the completeness and understanding of man ; especially of those creatures, which Moses in the Law permitted to the Jews, which have cloven hoofs, and chew the cud ; which I shall forbear to name, because I will not be so uncivil to Mr Piscator, as not to allow him a time for the commendation of Angling, which he calls an art ; but doubtless it is an easy one ; and Mr Auceps, I doubt we shall hear a watery discourse of it, but I hope it will not be a long one. Auceps. And I hope so too, though I fear it will. Piscator. Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess you. I confess my discourse is like to prove suitable to my recreation, — calm and quiet. We seldom take the name of God into our mouths, but it is either to praise him or pray to him : if others use it vainly in the midst of their recreations, so vainly as if they meant to conjure, I must tell you it is neither our fault nor our custom ; we protest against it. But, pray remember, I accuse nobody ; for as I would not make a watery discourse, so I would not put too much vinegar into it ; nor would I raise the reputation of my orni art, by the diminution or ruin of another's.* And so much for the prologue to what I mean to say. And now for the water, the element that I trade in : The * This affords, I think, an irrefragable answer to Lord Byron'fi libel on our excellent author, where he says, And aaeiMng too, that Bolitary vice, Whatever Izaak Walton sings or saf« : The quaint old cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it. —1. R. D 50 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. water is the eldest daughter of the creation, the element upon which the Spirit of God did first move, the element which God commanded to bring forth living creatures abundantly; and without which, those that inhabit the land, even all creatures that have breath in their nostrils, must suddenly return to putre- faction. Moses, the great lawgiver and chief philosopher, skilled in all the learning of the Egyptians, who was called the friend of God, and knew the mind of the Almighty, names this element the first in the creation ; * this is the element upon which the Spirit of God did first move, and is the chief ingredient in the creation : many philosophers have made it to comprehend all the other elements, and most allow it the chiefest in the mixtion of all living creatures. There be that profess to believe that all bodies are made of water, and may be reduced back again to water only ; they endeavour to demonstrate it thus : Take a willow, or any like speedy growing plant, newly rooted in a box or barrel full of earth, weigh them all together exactly when the tree begins to grow, and then weigh all together after the tree is increased from its first rooting, to weigh an hundred pound weight more than when it was first rooted and weighed; and you shall find this augment of the tree to be without the diminution of one drachm weight of the earth. Hence they infer this increase of wood to be from water of rain, or from dew, and not to be from any other element : and they afprm, they can reduce this wood back again to water ; and they affirm also, the same may be done in any animal or vegetable. And this I take to be a fair testimony of the excellency of my element of water. The water is more productive than the earth. Nay, Abe earth hath no fruitfulness without showers or dews ; for all the herbs, and flowers, and fruit, are produced and thrive by the water ; and the very minerals are fed by streams that run under ground, f whose natural course carries them to the tops of many high mountains, as we see by several springs breaking forth on the tops of the highest hiUs ; and this is also witnessed by the daily trial and testimony of several miners. Nay, the increase of those creatures that are bred and fed in the water is not only more and more miraculous, but more advantageous to man, not only for the lengthening of his life, but for the preventing of sickness ; for it is observed by the most learned physicians, that the casting oiF of Lent, and other fish days, which hath not only given the lie to so many learned, * Pindar says, " Water is the best of all thingrs." — J. R. + These are merely vague reports of inaccurate, or impossible experi- ments, at variance with all that is known in vegetable physiology or in chemistry. — J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 31 pious, >vise founders of colleges, for which we should be ashamed, hath doubtless been the chief cause of those many putrid, shaking, intermitting agues, unto which this nation of ours is now more subject than those wiser countries that feed on herbs, salads, and plenty of fish ; * of which it is observed in story, that the greatest part of the world now do. And it may be fit to remember that Moses, Levit. xi. 9. Deut. xiv. 9. appointed fish to be the chief diet for the best commonwealth that ever yet was. And it is observable, not only that there are fish, as namely the whale, three times as big as the mighty elephant, that is so fierce in battle, but that the mightiest feasts have been of fish. The Romans, in the height of their glory, have made fish the mistress of all their entertainments ; they have had music to usher in their sturgeons, lampreys, and mullets, which they would purchase at rates rather to be wondered at than believed. He that shall view the writings of Macrobius or Varro, may be confirmed and informed of this, and of the incredible value of their fish and fish-ponds. But, gentlemen, I have almost lost myself, which I confess I may easily do in this philosophical discourse ; I met with most raed to fish in tht» Thames ; and having one day lelt his bottle of ale in the grass, on the bank of the river, he found it some days after, no bottle, but a gun, such the sound at the opening thereof. And hence, with what degree of sagacity let the reader determine, he seems to derive the original of bottled ale in England. Could he have shewn that the botfle was of leather, it is odds but he had attributed to him the invention of that noble vehicle, and made his soul in heaven to dweU, For first devising the leatharn bottel ; as, in a fit of maudlin devotion, sings the author of a humorous and well- known old ballad.' 66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. to be esteemed one of the delights of mankind. This man, whose very approbation of angling were sufficient to convince any modest censurer of it, this man was also a most dear lover, and a frequent practiser, of the art of angling; of which he would say, " it was an employment for his idle time, which was then not idly spent ; for angling was, after tedious study, a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of contentedness ;" and " that it begat habits of peace and patience in those that professed and practised it." Indeed, my friend, you will find angling to be like the %-irtue of humi- lity, which has a calmness of spirit, and a world of other blessings attending upon it. Sir, this was the saying of that learned man, * and 1 do easily believe, that peace and patience, and a calm content, did cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir Henry Wotton, because I know, that when he was beyond seventy years of age, he made this description of a part of the present pleasure that possessed him, as he sat quietly, in a summer's evening, on a bank a-fishing. It is a description of the spring ; which, because it glided as soft and sweetly from his pen, as that river does at this time, by which it was then made, I shall repeat it imto you : This day dame Nature seem'd in love. The lusty sap began to move. Fresh juice did stir th' embracing- vines. And birds had drawn their valentines. The. jealous trout, th;it low did lie. Rose at a well dissembled fly ; * I may add to our author's list of distinguished anglers. Professor Wilson of Edinburgh, the late Dr Bahbington of London, and the late Sir Humphry Davv, who has iinitiited Walton's work very closely, in plan and sentiment, in his St.hhonia. " If," says Sir Humphry, " you require a poetical authority against that of Lord Byron, I mention the pMlosophical and powerful poet of the lakes, and the author of An Oxphic tale indeed, A tale divine, of his;h and passionate thoughts. To their own music chanted. — Coi.erioge. who is a lover both of fly-fishing and fly-fishermen. Gay's poem you know, and his passionate fondness for the amusement, which was his Srincipal occupation in the summer at Amesbury ; and the late excellent ohn Tobin, author of the Honni Moon, was an ardent angler. Nay, I can find authorities of all kinds, statesmen, heroes, an . philosophers; I can go back to Trajan, who was fond of angling. Nelson was a good fly-fisher, and as a proof of his passion for it, continued the pursuit even with his left hand. I)r Falcy \va« ardently attached to this amusement, so much so, that whies and the violets blue. Red nyacinth, and yellow daffodil. Purple narcissus like the morning rays, Pale gander-grass, and azure culver-keys. I count it higher pleasure to beliold The stately compass of the lofty sky; And in the midst thereof, like burning gold. The flaming chariot of the world's great eye ; The watery clouds that, in the air up-roll'd. With sundry kinds of painted colours fly j And fair Aurora, lifting up her head. Still blushing, rise from old Tithonus' bed. The hills and mountains raised from the plains. The plains extended level with the ground j The grounds divided into sundry veins. The veins enclosed with rivers running round ; These rivers making way through nature's chains With headlong course into the sea profound ; The raging sea, beneath the valleys low, Where lakes and rills and rivulets do flow. * The swallow. ^8 ^THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Til e lofty woods, the forests wide and long-, Adorn 'd with leaves and branches fresh and green. In whose cool bowers the birds, with many a song. Do welrome with their choir the Summer's queen; The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts among Are intermix'd, with verdant grass between ; The silver scaled fish that softly swim Within the sweet brook's crystal, watery stream. All these, and many more of His creation That made the heavens, the angler oft doth see; f Taking therein no little delectation. To think how strange, how wonderful they be ; Framing thereof an inward contemplation To set his heart from other fancies free ; And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye. His mind is rapt above the starry sky. Sir, I am glad my memory has not lost these last verses, because they are somewhat more pleasant and more suitable to May-day than my harsh discourse. And I am glad your patience hath held out so long, as to hear them and me ; for both of them have brought us wthin the sight of the Thatched House. And I must be your debtor, if you think it worth your attention, for the rest of my promised discourse, till some other opportunity, and a like time of leisure. Venator. Sir, you have angled me on wth much pleasure to the Thatched House ; and I now find your words true, "that good company makes the way seem short;" for, trust me, sir, I thought we had wanted three miles of this house, till you shewed it to me. But now we are at it, we'll turn into it, and refresh ourselves with a cup of drink and a little rest. Piscator. Most gladly, sir, and we '11 drink a civil cup to all the otter hunters that are to meet you to-morrow. Venator. That we will, sir, and to all the lovers of angling too, of which number I am now willing to be one myself; for, by the help of your good discourse and company, I have put on new thoughts, both of the art of anghng, and of all that profess it : and if you will but meet me to-morrow at the time and place appointed, and bestow one day with me and my friends in hunt- ing the Otter, I will dedicate the next two days to wait upon you ; and we two ^vill, for that time, do nothing but angle, and talk of fish and fishing. Piscator. ' Tis a match, sir ; I will not fail you, God %\alhng, to be at Amwell Hill to-morrow morning before sun-rising. I THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 69 CHAPTER II. OBSERVATIONS OF THE OTTER AND CHUB. Venator. My friend Piscator, you have kept time with ray thoughts ; for the sun is just rising, and I myself just now come to this place, and the dogs have just now put down an otter. Look ! down at the bottom of the hill there, in that meadow, chequered with water lilies and lady-smocks, — there you may see what work they make : look ! look ! you may see all busy, men and dogs, dogs and men, all busy. Piscator. Sir, I am right glad to meet you, and glad to have so fair an entrance into this day's sport, and glad to see so many dogs and more men all in pursuit of the otter. Let 's compli- ment no longer, but join unto them. Come, honest Venator, let 's be gone, let us make haste ; I long to be doing : no reasonable hedge or ditch shall hold me. Venator. Gentleman huntsman, where found you this Otter ? Huntsman. Marry, sir, we found her a mile from this place, a-fishing. She has this morning eaten the greatest part of this trout ; she has only left thus much of it, as you see, and was fishing for more ; when we came, we found her just at it : but we were here very early ; we were here an hour before sun-rise, and have given her no rest since we came ; sure, she vidll hardly escape all these dogs and men. I am to have the skin, if we kill her. Venator. Why, sir, what 's the skin worth ? Huntsman. 'Tis worth ten shillings to make gloves; the gloves of an Otter are the best fortification for yom- hands that can be thought on against wet weather. Piscator. I pray, honest huntsman, let me ask you a pleasant question : do you hunt a beast or a fish ? Huntsman. Sir, It is not in my power to resolve you ; I leave it to be resolved by the college of Carthusians, who have made vows never to eat flesh. But, I have heard, the question hath been debated among many great clerks, and they seem to differ about it ; yet most agiee that her tail is fish : and if her body be fish too, then I may say that a fish will walk upon land ; for an Otter does so sometimes, five, or six, or ten miles in a night, to catch for her young ones, or to glut herself with fish. And I can tell you that pigeons will fly forty miles for a break- fast ; but, sir, I am sure the Otter devours much fish, and kills and spoils much more than he eats. And I can tell you, that this dog-fisher — for so the Latins call him — can smell a fish 70 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. in the water a hundred yards from him : Gesner says much farther, and that his stones are good against the falling sickness ; and that there is an herb, benione, which, being hung in a linen cloth, near a tish pond, or any haunt that he uses, makes him to avoid the place ; which proves he smells both by water and land. And I can tell you, there is brave hunting this water-dog in Cornwall, where there have been so many, that our learned Camden says there is a river called Ottersey, which was so named by reason of the abundance of otters that bred and fed in it. And thus much for my knowledge of the Otter ; which you may now see above water at vent, and the dogs close with him : I now see he will not last long. Follow, therefore, my masters, follow ; for Sweetlips was like to have him at this last vent. Venator. Oh me ! all the horse are got over the river ; what shall we do now ? shall we follow them over the water ? Huntsman. No, sir, no ; be not so eager : stay a little, and follow me ; for both they and the dogs will be suddenly on this side again, I warrant you, and the Otter too, it may be. Now, have at him with Kilbuck, for he vents again. Venator. Marry, so he does ; for look ! he vents in that corner. Now, now, Ringwood has him : now, he is gone again, and has bit the poor dog. Now Sweetlips has her; hold her, Sweetlips ! now all the dogs have her, some above, and some under water ; but now, now she is tired, and past losing. Come, bring her to me, Sweetlips. Look ! it is a bitch-otter, and she has lately whelped. Let's go to the place where she was put down, and not far from it you will find all her young ones, I dare warrant you, and kill them all too. Huntsman. Come, gentlemen ! come all ! let 's go to the place where we put down the Otter. Look you ! hereabout it was that she kennelled ; look you ! here it was indeed ! for here 's her young ones, no less than five : come, let's kill them all. Piscator. No : I pray sir, save me one, and I'll try if I can make her tame, as I know an ingenious gentleman in Leicester- shire, Mr Nicholas Seagrave, has done ; who hath not only made her tame, but to catch fish, and do many other things of much pleasure. Huntsman. Take one with all my heart ; but let us kill the rest. And now, let's go to an honest alehouse, where we may have a cup of good barley wine, and sing Old Hose, and all of us rejoice together. Venator. Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite you along with us. I '11 bear your charges this night, and you shall bear mine to-morrow ; for my intention is to accompany you a diiy or two in fishing. Piscator. Sir, your request is granted ; and I shall be right J THE COiMPLETE ANGLER. 71 glad both to exchange such a courtesy, and also to enjoy your company. Venator. Well, now let's go to your sport of angling. Piscator. Let 's be going, with all my heart. God keep you all, gentlemen, and send you meet, this day, with another bitch- otter, and kill her merrily, and all her young ones too. Venator. Now, Piscator, where will you begin to fish ? Piscator. We are not yet come to a likely place : I must walk a mile farther yet before I begin. Venator. Well, then, I pray, as we walk, tell me freely, how- do you like your lodging, and mine host, and the company ? Is not mine host a %\'itty man ? Piscator. Sir, I will tell you presently what I think of your host : but, first, I will tell you, I am glad these otters were killed ; and I am sorry that there are no more otter-killers, for I know that the want of otter-killers, and the not keeping the fence-months for the preservation of fish, will, in time, prove the destruction of all rivers. And those very few that are left, that make conscience of the laws of the nation, and of keeping days of abstinence, will be forced to eat flesh, or suffer more inconveniences than are yet foreseen. Venator. Why, sir, what be those that you call the fence- months ? Piscator. Sir, they be principally three, namely, March, April, and May ; for these be the usual months that salmon come out of the sea to spawn in most fresh rivers. * And their fry would, about a certain time, return back to the salt water, if they were not hindered by weirs and unlawful gins, which the greedy fishermen set, and so destroy them by thousands, as they would, being so taught by nature, change the fresh for salt water. He that shall view the wise statutes made in the 13th of Edward the First, and the like in Richard the Third, may see several pro- visions made against the destruction of fish : and though I profess no knowledge of the law, yet I am sure the regulation of these defects might be easily mended. But I remember that a wise friend of mine did usually say, " That which is every body's business is nobody's business." If it were otherwise, there could not be so many nets and fish, that are under the statute size, sold daily amongst us ; and of which the conservators of the waters should be ashamed, f * This is a mistake ; for salinun come out of the sea to spawn in October and November J. It. t About the year 1770, upon the trial of an indictment before me at Hicks's.hall, a basket was produced in evidence, containing flounders that had been taken with unlawful nets in the river Thames, so small that scarce 7iS THE COMPLETE ANGLER. But, above all, the taking fish in spa\vning time may be said to be against nature : it is like the taking the dam on the nest when she hatches her young — a sin so against nature that Almighty God hath, in the Levitical law, made a law against it. But the poor fish have enemies enough beside such unnatural fishermen ; as, namely, the otters that I spake of, the Cormorant, the Bittern, the Osprey, the Sea-gull, the Heron, the King-fisher, the Gorara,*the Puet,tthe Swan, Goose, Duck, and the Craber,* which some call the Water-rat : against all which any honest man may make a just quarrel, but I will not ; I will leave them to be quarrelled with and killed by others ; for I am not of a cruel nature — I love to kill nothing but fish. And, now, to your question concerning your host, to spea'. truly, he is not to me a good companion : for most of his conceits were either Scripture jests, or lascivious jests, for which I count no man wdtty : for the devil ^vill help a man, that way inclined, to the first ; and his own corrupt nature, which he always carries with him, to the latter. But a companion that feasts the company with wit and mirth, and leaves out the sin which is usually mixed with them, he is the man ; and, indeed, such a companion should have his charges borne ; and to such company I hope to bring you this night ; for at Trout Hall, not far from this place, where I purpose to lodge to-night, there is usually an angler that proves good company. And, let me tell you, good company and good discourse are the very sinews of virtue. But for sudb discourse as we heard last night, it infects others ; the very boys will learn to talk and swear, as they heard mine host, and another of the company that shall be nameless. I am sorry the other is a gentleman — for less religion will not save their souls than a beggar's — I think more will be required at the last great day. Well, you know \\1 at exen fie is able to do ; and I know what the poet says in the like case, which is worthy to be noted by all parents and people of civility, — — — many a one Owes to liis country his religion ; And in another would as strontrly grow. Had but his nurse or mother taught him so. This is reason put into verse, and worthy the consideration of a wise man. But of this no more ; for though I love civility yet I hate severe censures. I '11 to my o^vn art, and I doubt not any one of them would cover a half-crown piece. The indictment was for an affray and an as^anlt on a person authorized to seize unstatutable nets ; and the sentence of the offender, a year's imprisonment in Newgate. * I do not exactly know what animals are meant bv " Gorara" and •« Craber."— J. R. t Probably the Peewit GuU (Larus ridibundiu, Leisler.)— J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 73 but at yonder tree I shall catch a Chub : and then we'll turn to an honest cleanly hostess, that 1 know right well, rest ourselves there, and dress it for our dinner. Venator. Oh, sir ! a Chub is the worst fish that swims : I hoped for a Trout to my dinner. Piscator. Trust me, sir, there is not a likely place for a Trout hereabout : and we staid so long to take our leave of your hunts- men this morning, that the sun is got so high, and shines so clear, that I will not undertake the catching of a Trout till evening. And though a Chub be, by you and many others, reckoned the worst of fish, yet you shall see I '11 make it a good fish by dressing it. Venator. "Why, how will you dress him ? Piscator. I '11 tell you by and by, when I have caught him. Look you here, sir, do you see ? (but you must stand very close,) there lie upon the top of the water, in this very hole, twenty Chubs. I '11 catch only one, and that shall be the biggest of them all : and that I will do so, I'll hold you twenty to one : and you shall see it done. Venator. Ay, marry, sir \ now you talk like an artist, and I '11 say you are one, when 1 shall see you perform what you say you can do : but I yet doubt it. Piscator. You shall not doubt it long, for you shall see me do it presently. Look ! the biggest of these Chubs has had some bruise upon his tail, by a Pike, or some other accident, and that looks like a white spot ; that very Chub I mean to put into your hands presently. Sit you but down in the shade, and stay but a little while, and I '11 warrant you, I '11 bring him to you. Venator. I '11 sit down and hope well, because you seem to be ko confident. Piscator. Look you, sir. there is a trial of my skill ! there he i*; Chub. — Lenciscus Cephalus. that very Chub that I shewed you, with the white spot on his tail. And I '11 be as certain to make him a good dish of meat. 74 THE COMPLETE ANGLEK. as I was to catch him : I '11 now lead you to an honest alehouse, where we shall find a cleanly room, lavender in the ^vindows, and twenty hallads stuck about the wall. There my hostess (which 1 may tell you is both cleanly, and handsome, and civil) hath dressed many a one for me, and shall now dress it after my fashion, and I warrant it good meat. Venator. Come, sir, with all my heart! for I begin to be hungry, and long to be at it, and indeed to rest myself too ; for though I have walked but four miles this morning, yet I begin to l)e weary : yesterday's hunting hangs still upon me. Piscator. Well, sir, and you shall quickly be at rest, for yonder is the house I mean to bring you to. Come, hostess, how do you do ? Will you first give us a cup of your best drink, and then dress this Chub as you dressed my last, when I and my friend were here about eight or ten days ago? But you must do me one courtesy, — it must be done instantly. Hostess. I will do it, Mr Piscator, and with all the speed I can. Piscator. Now, sir, has not my hostess made haste ? and does not the fish look lovely ? Venator. Both, upon my word, sir ! and, therefore, let 's say grace and fall to eating of it. Piscator. Well, sir, how do you like it ? Venator. Trust me, 'tis as good meat as I ever tasted. Now let me thank you for it, drink to you, and beg a courtesy of you, but it must not be denied me. Piscator. What is it, I pray, sir ? You are so modest, that, methinks, I may promise to grant it before it is asked. Venator. Why, sir, it is, that from henceforth you would allow me to call you master, and that really I may be your scholar : for you are such a companion, and have so quickly caught and so excellently cooked this fish, as makes me ambi- tious to be your scholar. Piscator. Give me your hand ! from this time forward I will be your master, and teach you as much of this art as I am able ; and will, as you desire me, tell you somewhat of the nature of most of the fish that we are to angle for, and I am sure I both can and \nll tell you more than any common angler yet knows. CHAPTER III. HOW TO FISH FOR AND TO DRESS THE CHAVENDF.R OR CHUB. Piscator. The Chub, though he eat well thus dressed, yet, as he is usually dressed, he does not. He is objected against, not THE COMPLKTE ANGLER. 75 only for being full of small forked bones, dispersed through all his body, but that he eats waterish, and that the flesh of him is not firm, but short and tasteless. The French esteem him so mean, as to call him un villain: nevertheless he may be so dressed as to make him very good meat, — as, namely, if he be a large Cluib, then dress him thus : First, scale him, and then wash him clean, and then take out his guts ; and to that end make the hole as little and near to his gills as you may conveniently, and especially make clean his throat from the grass and weeds that are usually in it ; for if that be not very clean, it will make him to taste very sour. Having so done, put some sweet herbs into his belly ; and then tie him with two or three splinters to a spit, and roast him, basted often wth vinegar, or rather verjuice and butter, with good store of salt mixed with it. Being thus dressed, you will find him a much better dish of meat than you, or most folk, even than anglers themselves, do imagine ; for this dries up the fluid watery humour with which all Chubs do abound. Rut take this rule with you, that a Chub newly taken and newly dressed is so much better than a Chub of a day's keeping after he is dead, that I can compare him to nothing so fitly as to cherries newly gathered from a tree, and others that have been bruised and lain a day or two in water. But the Chub being thus used, and dressed presently, and not washed after he is gutted, (for note, that lying long in water, and washing the blood out of any fish after they be gutted, abates much of their sweetness,) you will find the Chub (being dressed in the blood, and quickly) to be such meat as will recom- pense your labour, and disabuse your opinion. Or you may dress the Chavender, or Chub, thus : — When you have scaled him, and cut off his tail and fins, and washed him very clean, then chine, or slit, him through the middle, as a salt-fish is usually cut ; then give him three or four cuts, or scotches, on the back with your knife, and broil him on charcoal, or wood coal, that are free from smoke : and, all the time he is a-broiling, baste him Avith the best sweet butter, and good store of salt mixed with it. And, to this, add a little thyme cut exceedingly small, or bruised into the butter. The Cheven thus dressed, hath the watery taste taken away, for which so many except against him. Thus was the Cheven dressed that you now liked so well, and commended so much. But note again, that if this Chub that you eat of had been kept till to-morrow, he had not been worth a rush. And remember, that his throat be washed very clean — I say very clean — and Ms body not washed after he is gutted, as indeed no fish should be. Well, scholar, you see what pains I have taken to recover 76 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. the lost credit of the poor despised Chub. And now I wdll give you some rules how to catch him : and I am glad to enter you into the art of fishing by catching a Chub ; for there is no fish better to enter a young angler, he is so easily caught, — but then it must be this particular way. Go to the same hole in which I caught my Chub, where, in most hot days, you will find a dozen or twenty Chevens floating near the top of the water. Get two or three grasshoppers as you go over the meadow; and get secretly behind the tree, and stand as free from motion as is possible. Then put a grasshopper on your hook, and let your hook hang a quarter of a yard short of the water, to which end you must rest your rod on some bough of the tree. But it is likely the Chubs will sink down towards the bottom of the water, at the first shadow of your rod, (for a Chub is the fearfuUest of fishes,) and will do so if but a bird flies over him and makes the least shadow on the water.* But they will presently rise up to the top again, and there lie soaring till some shadow affrights them again. I say, when they lie upon the top of the water look out the best Chub, (which you, setting yourself in a fit place, may very easily see,) and move your rod as softly as a snail moves, f to that Chub you intend to catch ; let your bait fall gently upon the water three or four inches before him, and he will infallibly take the bait. And you will be as sure to catch him ; for he is one of the leather-mouthed fishes, of which a hook does scarce ever lose its hold ; and therefore give him play enough, before you offer to take him out of the water Go your way presently ; take my rod, and do as I bid you ; and I will sit down and mend my tackling till you return back. Venator. Truly, my loving master, you have offered me as fair as I could wish. I'll go, and observe your directions. Look you, master, what I have done ! that which joys my heart, — caught jnst such another Chub as yours was. Piscator. Marry, and I am glad of it : I am like to have a towardly scholar of you. I now see, that with advice and practice, you will make an angler in a short time. Have but a love to it, and I '11 warrant you. VenatoY. But, master, what if I could not have found a Grasshopper ? Piscator. Then I may tell you, that a black snail, with his belly slit, to shew his white, or a piece of soft cheese, will usually do as well. Nay, sometimes a worm, or any kind of * This fearfulness of fishes ofshadows seems to me to disprove Walton's opinion of their quick-sightedness, inasmuch as they see nothing distinctly. — J. R. f " No throwing," says Titus, in Blackwood's Magazine. " Put your bait in as gently as a thief at a public dinner puts his hand into the nigh 8herifi''s pocket." — J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 77 fly, as the Ant-fly, the Flesh-fly, or Wall-fly ; or the Dor or Beetle, which you may find under cow-dung ; or a Bob, which you will find in the same place, and in time will be a Beetle ; it is a short white worm, like to and bigger than a Gentle ; or a Cod- worm ; or a Case-worm : any of these will do very well to fish in such a manner. And after this manner you may catch a Trout, in a hot evening : when, as you walk by a brook, and shall see or hear him leap at flies, then, if you get a Grasshopper, put it on your hook, with your line about two yards long ; standing behind a bush or tree where his hole is : and make your bait stir up and doMTi on the top of the water. You may, if you stand close, be sure of a bite, but not sure to catch him, for he is not a leather-mouthed fish. And after this manner you may fish for him with almost any kind of live fly, but especially with a Grasshopper. Venator. But before you go farther, I pray, good master, what mean you by a leather-mouthed fish ? Piscator. By a leather-mouthed fish, I mean such as have their teeth in their throat, as the Chub, or Cheven ; and so the Barbel, the Gudgeon, and Carp, and divers others have. And the hook being stuck into the leather, or skin, of the mouth of such fish, does very seldom or never lose its hold ; but, on the contrary, a Pike, a Perch, or Trout, and so some other fish, which have not their teeth in their throats, but in their mouths, (which you shall observe to be very full of bones, and the skin very thin, and little of it :) I say, of these fish the hook never takes so sure hold but you often lose your fish, unless he have gorged it. Venator, I thank you, good master, for this observation. But now what shall be done with my Chub, or Cheven, that I have caught ? Piscator. Marry, sir, it shall be given away to some poor body; for I'll warrant you I'll give you a Trout for your supper : and it is a good beginning of your art to offer your first fruits to the poor, who will both thank God and you for it, which I see by your silence you seem to consent to. And for your willingness to part udth it so charitably, 1 will also teach you more concerning Chub-fishing : You are to note, that in March and April he is usually taken with worms ; in May, June, and July, he will bite at any fly, or at cherries, or at Beetles with their legs and wmgs cut off, or at any kind of snail, or at the Black Bee that breeds in clay walls.* And he never refuses » The Anthophora return of naturalists. It is the fomale only that is black, the male being brown, with a feathering of hairs on his feet. Of these Linnaeus made two species. — J. 11. 78 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. a Grasshopper on the top of a swift stream,* nor, at the bottom, the young Humble-beet that breeds in long gi-ass, and is ordinarily found by the mower of it. In August, and in the cooler months, a yellow paste, made of the strongest cheese, and pounded in a mortar, with a little butter and saffron, so much of it as, being beaten small, will turn it to a lemon colour. And some make a paste, for the winter months, (at which time the Chub is accounted best, for then it is observed, that the forked bones are lost, or turned into a kind of gristle, especially if he be baked,) of cheese and turpentine. He will bite also at a Minnow, or Penk, as a Trout will : of which I shall tell you more hereafter, and of divers other baits. But take this for a rule, that, in hot weather, he is to be fished for towards the mid-water, or near the top ; and in colder weather nearer the bottom. And if you fish for him on the top, with a Beetle, or any fly, then be sure to let your line be very long, and to keep out of sight. X And having told you that his spawTi is excellent meat, and that the head of a large Cheven, the throat being Well washed, is the best part of him, I will say no more of this fish at the present, but wish you may catch the next you fish for. But, lest you may judge me too nice in urging to have the Chub dressed so presently after he is taken, I will commend to your consideration how curious former times have been in the like kind. You shall read in Seneca, his Natural Questions, lib. iii. cap. 17, that the ancients were so curious in the newness of their fish, that that seemed not new enough that was not put alive into the guest's hand ; and he says, that to that end they did usually keep them living in glass bottles in their dining-rooms, and they did glory much, in their entertaining of friends, to have that fish taken from under their table alive that was instantly to be fed upon. And he says, they took great pleasure to see their Mullets change to several colours, when they were dying. But enough of this ; for I doubt I have staid too long from giving you some observations of the Trout, and how to fish for him, which shall take up the next of my spare time. » In the Thames, above Richmond, the best way of using the Grasshop- I)er for Chub, is to fish with it as with an artificial fly ;the first joints of the egs must be pinched ofl"; and in this way, when the weed is rotten, which is seldom till September, the larg-est Dace are taken, f The Bornbus muscorum of naturalists. — J. R. X The hooks, No. 3. or 4, may be used, whipped upon a strong gnt, with a quill float on it. He bites so eagerly, that on taking the bait. " you may," says Hawkins, " hear his jaws chop like those of a dog."— J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 79 CHAPTER IV. OBSERVATIONS ON THE NATURE AND BREEDING OF THE TROUT, AND HOW TO FISH FOR HIM ; AND THE MILKMAID'S SONG. Piscator. The Trout is a fish highly valued, both in this and foreign nations. He may be justly said, as the old poet said of wine, and we English say of venison, to be a generous fish : a fish that is so Uke the Buck that he also has his seasons ; for it is observed, that he comes in and goes out of season with the Stag and Buck. Gesner says, his name is of a German offspring ; and says he is a fish that feeds clean and purely, in the swiftest streams, and on the hardest gravel ; and that he may justly contend with all fresh- water fish, as the Mullet may with all sea-fish, for precedency and daintiness of taste ; and that being in right season, the most dainty palates have allowed precedency to him. And, before I go farther in my discourse, let me tell you, that you are to observe, that as there be some barren Does that are good in summer, so there be some barren Trouts that are good in winter : but there are not many that are so ; for usually they be in their perfection in the month of May, and decline \vith the Buck. Now, you are to take notice, that in several countries, as in Germany and in other parts, compared to ours, fish do differ much in their bigness, and shape, and other ways ; and so do Trouts. It is well known, that in the Lake Leman (the Lake of Geneva) there are Trouts taken three cubits long, as is affirmed by Gesner, a writer of good credit : and Mercator says, the Trouts that are taken in the Lake of Geneva are a great part of the merchandise of that famous city. And you are farther to know, that there be certain waters that breed Trouts, remarkable both for their number and smallness. I know a little brook in Kent,* that breeds them to a number incredible, and you may take them twenty or forty in an hour, but none greater than about the size of a Gudgeon. There are also, in divers rivers, especially that relate to, or be near to the sea, (as Winchester, or the Thames about Windsor,) a little Trout called a Samlet, or Skegger Troutf (in both which places I have caught twenty or forty at a standing,) that will bite as fast and as freely as Minnows : these be by some taken * The Cray, if I mistake not, whiih is about eight miles from where I am now writing, and is famous for small trout, — J. R. f This appi'ars to be what is termed the Par in the north, and which, I think, ia a peculiar species.— J. K, 80 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, to be young Salmons ; but in those waters they never grow to be bigger than a herring. There is also in Kent, near to Canterbury, a Trout called there a Fordidge Trout, a Trout that bears the name of the town where it is usually caught, that is accounted the rarest of fish ; many of them near the bigness of Salmon, but known by their different colour, and in their best season they cut very white ; and none of these have been known to be caught with an angle, unless it were one that was caught by Sir George Hastings, an excellent angler, and now with God : and he hath told me, he thought that Trout bit not for hunger, but wantonness ; and it is rather to be believed, because both he, then, and many others before him, have been curious to search into their bellies, what the food was by which they lived, and have found out nothing by which they might satisfy their curiosity.* Concerning which you are to take notice, that it is reported by good authors, that Grasshoppers and some fish have no mouths, but are nourished and take breath by the porousness of their gills, man knows not how : and this may be believed, if we consider that when the Raven hath hatched her eggs, she takes no farther care, but leaves her young ones to the care of » The same is true of the Salmon, which hns never any thing besides a yellow fluid in his stomach when caught. The same is also true of,th« Herring. — J. R. f •• It has been said by naturalists," says Sir John Hawkins, " particii- larly by Sir Theodore Mayerne, tliat the Grasshopper has no mouth,' but a pipe inhis breast, through which it sucks the dew, which is its nutriment." Nothing could be more absurd than this, wliich may be disprovedby any body that chooses to examine the large and obvious jaws in the Grass- hopper. So far from living on dew, Grasshoppers are so voracious that they make no ceremony, as I have often witnessed, 'and proved by experiment, of eating tlieir own species. I can scarcely comprehend how Walton was not set right by some of his dignified Episcopal friends in reference to the gross perversion of the text respecting the young Ravens. Even supposing worms to be bred in the nests, the poor things could not help theniselven thereto. — J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 81 the God of nature, who is said, in the Psalms, "to feed the young Ravens that call upon him." And they be kept alive and fed by a dew, or worms that breed in their nests, or some other ways that we mortals know not. And this may be believed of the Fordidge Trout, which, as it is said of the Stork that he knows his season, so he knows his times (I think almost his day) of coming into that river out of the sea, where he lives (and, it is like, feeds) nine months of the year, and fasts three in the river of Fordidge. And you are to note, that those towns- men are very punctual in observing the time of beginning to fish for them ; and boast much, that their river affords a Trout that exceeds all others. And just so does Sussex boast of several fish, as namely, a Shelsey Cockle, a Chichester Lobster, an Arundel Mullet, an Amerly Trout. And, now, for some confirmation of the Fordidge Trout : you are to know that this Trout is thought to eat nothing in the fresh water; and it may be the better believed, because it is well known, that Swallows, and Bats, and Wagtails, which are called half-year birds, and not seen to fly in England for six months in the year, but (about Michaelmas) leave us for a hotter climate, yet some of them that have been left behind their fellows, have been found, many thousands at a time, in hollow trees,* or clay caves, where they have been observed to live, and sleep out the whole winter, without meat. And so Albertus ' observes, that there is one kind of frog, that hath her mouth naturally shut up about the end of August, and that she lives so all the wanter : and though it be strange to some, yet it is known to too many among us to be doubted. f And so much for these Fordidge Trouts, which never afford an angler sport, but either live their time of being in the fresh water, by their meat formerly gotten in the sea, (not unlike the Swallow or Frog,) or by the virtue of the fresh water only ; or, as the bird of Paradise and the Chameleon are said to live, by the sun and the air. J * View Sir Francis Bacon, Exper. 899. No proof worthy of the least oredit has ever been given of this popular notion, whirh is indeed physically impossible. — J. R. t There can be no doubt that the mouth of the Frog is closed during its winter torpidity. — J. R. X That the Chameleon lives by the air alone is a vulgar error, it being well known that its food is Flies and other insects. See Sir Thomas Brown's Inquiry into Vulgar and Common Errors, book iii. chap. 21. 82 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Bi/'LL Trout. — Salmo Fario. — Varkhj. There is also in Northumberland a Trout called a Bull Trout, * of a much greater length and bigness than any in these southern parts. And there are, in many rivers that relate to the sea, Salmon Trouts, as much different from others, both in shape and in their spots, as we see sheep in some countries differ one from another in their shape and bigness, and in the fineness of their wool. And, certainly, as some pastures breed larger sheep ; so do some rivers, by reason of the ground over which they run, breed larger Trouts. Salmon Trout. — Salma Trutta. Now the next thing that I will commend to your consideration is, that the Trout is of a more sudden growth than other fish. Concerning which, you are also to take notice, that he lives not so long as the Perch, and divers other fishes do, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his History of Life and Death. And next you are to take notice, that he is not like the Crocodile, which if he lives never so long, yet always^ thrives till his death : but 'tis not so with the Trout ; for after he is come to his full growth, he declines in his body, and keeps his bigness, * This Trnut is also found in the? south of Scotlan-l, The river Tarraa in D'.imfriea-shire is proverbially famed for it. — S. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 83 or thrives only in his head till his death.* And you are to know, that he Mill, about (especially before) the time of his spawning, get, almost miraculously, through weirs and tiood- gates, against the streams ; even through such high and swift places as is almost incredible. Next, that the Trout usually spawns about October or November, but in some rivers a little sooner or later ; which is the more observable, because most other fish spawn in the spring or summer, when the sun hath warmed both the earth and water, and made it fit for generation. And you are to note, that he continues many months out of season ; for it may be observed of the Trout, that he is like the Buck or the Ox, that will not be fat in many months, though he go in the very same pastiu-e that Horses do, which will be fat in one month. And so you may observe, that most other fishes recover strength, and grow sooner fat and in season, than the Trout doth. And next you are to note, that till the sun gets to such a height as to warm the earth and the water, the Trout is sick, and lean, and lousy, and unwholesome ; for you shall, in winter, find him to have a big head, and then to be lank, and thin, and lean ; at which time many of them have sticking on them Sugs, or Trout-lice ; which is a kind of a worm, in shape live a clove, or pin with a big head, and sticks close to him, and sucks his moisture : those, I think, the Trout breeds himself; and never thrives till he free himself from them, which is when warm weather comes ; and then, as he grows stronger, he gets from the dead still water into the sharp streams and the gravel, and there rubs off these worms or lice ; and then, as he grows stronger, so he gets him into swifter and s\vifter streams, and there lies at the watch for any Fly or Minnow that comes near to him ; and he especially loves the May-fly, which is bred of the Cod-worm, or Cadis ; and these make the Trout bold and lusty, and he is usually fatter and better meat at the end of the month [May] than at any time of the year. Now you are to know that it is observed, that usually the best Trouts are either red or yellow ; though some (as the Fordidge Trout) be white and yet good ; but that is not usual : and it is a note observable, that the female Trout hath usually a less head and a deeper body than the male Trout, and is usually the better meat. And note, that a hog-back and a little head to either Trout, Salmon, or any other fish, is a sign that that fish is in season. But yet you are to note, that as you see some willows or palm-trees bud and blossom sooner than others do, so some Trouts be, in rivers, sooner in season : and as some hollies or » This opinion has arisen from mistaking a larj^e Trout, after spawning, when his head looks larg'e, because his body is lean, for an old Trout declining through age. —J. R. 84 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. oaks are longer before they cast their leaves, so are some Trouts in rivers longer before they go out of season. And you are to note, that there are several kinds of Trouts: but these several kinds are not considered but by very few men ; for they go under the general name of Trouts : just as Pigeons do in most places ; though it is certain there are tame and wild Pigeons : and of the tame, there be Helmits and Runts, and Carriers and Croppers, and indeed too many to name. Nay, the Royal Society * have found and published lately, that there be thirty and three kinds of Spiders, and yet aU, for aught I know, go under that one general name of Spider. And it is so vdth many kinds of fish, and of Trouts especially, which differ in their bigness, and shape, and spots, and colour. The great Kentish hens may be an instance, compared to other hens. And, doubtless, there is a kind of small Trout which will never thrive to be big, that breeds very many more than others do that be of a larger size : which you may rather believe, if you consider that the little Wren and Titmouse will have twenty young ones at a time, when, usually, the noble Hawk, or the musical Throssel, or Blackbird, exceed not four or five. And now you shall see me try my skill to catch a Trout. And at my next walking, either this evening or to-morrow morning, I will give you direction how you yourself shall fish for him. Venator. Trust me, master, . I see now it is a harder matter to catch a Trout than a Chub ; for I have put on patience, and followed you these two hours, and not seen a fish stir neither at your minnow nor your worm. Piscator. Well, scholar, you must endure worse luck some- time, or you \nW. never make a good angler. But what say you now ? there is a Trout now, and^a good one too, if I can but hold him ; and two or three turns more vidU tire him. Now you see he lies still, and the sleight is to land him : reach me that landing net. So, sir, now he is mine own : what say you now, is not this worth all my labour and your patience ? Venator. On my word, master, this is a gallant Trout ; what shall we do with lum ? Piscator. Marry, e'en eat him to supper : we '11 go to my hostess from Avhence we came ; she told me, as I was going out of door, that my brother Peter, a good angler and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would lodge there to-night, and bring a friend with him. My hostess has two beds, and I know you and I may have the best : we'll rejoice ^^dth my brother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or sing ballads, or make a catch, or find some harmless sport to content us and pass away a little time without offence to God or man. ♦ He must mean Dr Lister. —J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 85 Venator. A match, good master, let 's go to that house ; for the linen looks white, and smells of lavender, and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that smell so. Let 's be going, good master, for I am hungry again with fishing. Piscator. Nay, stay a little, good scholar ; I caught my last Trout with a Worm ; now I \vill put on a Minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yonder trees for another ; and so walk towards our lodging. Look you, scholar, there^out we shall have a bite presently, or not at all. Have with you, sir : o' my word I have hold of him. Oh ! it is a great logger-headed Chub ; come, hang him upon that willow twdg and let 's be going. But turn out of the way a little, good scholar, towards yonder high honeysuckle hedge ; there we '11 sit and sing, whilst this shower falls so gently upon the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant meadows. Look ! under that broad beech tree I sat down, when I wa« last this way a-fishing ; and the birds in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention \vith an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a hollow tree near to the brow of that primrose hill. There I sat viewing the silver streams glide silently towards their centre, the tempestuous sea ; yet some- times opposed by rugged roots and pebble stones, which broke their waves, and turned them into foam. And sometimes I beguiled time by viewing the harmless lambs ; some leaping securely in the- cool shade, whilst others sported themselves in the cheerful sun ; and saw others craving comfort from the swollen udders of their bleating dams. As I thus sat, these and other sights had so fully possessed my soul with content, that I thought, as the poet hath happily expressed it, I was for that time lifted above earth ; And possess'd joys not promised in my birth. As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a second pleasure entertained me, — 'twas a handsome milkmaid, that had not yet attained so much age and wisdom as to load her mind with any fears of many things that wll never be, as too many men too often do ; but she cast away all care, and sung like a nightingale ; her voice was good, and the ditty fitted for it ; it was that smooth song which was made by Kit Mario w,* now at * Christopher Marlovv, a poet of no small eminence. He was sometime a student at Cambridge, and, after that, an actor on and writer for the stage. There are extant of his writings, five tragedies and a poem that bears his name, entitled Hero and Leander, which, he not living to com- plete it, was finished by Chapman. The song here mentioned is printed, with his name to it, in a Collection entitled, England's Helicon, 4to. 1600, as is also the Answer, here said to be written by Sir Walter Raleigh, but there subscribed " Ignoto." Of Marlow it is said, that he was the author 86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. least fifty years ago. And the milkmaid's mother sung an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh, in his younger days. They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good ; I think much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion in this critical age. Look yonder ! on my word yonder they both be a-milking again. I will give her the Chub, and persuade them to sing those two songs to us. God speed you, good w^oman ! I have been a-fishing ; and am going to Bleak Hall * to my bed ; and having caught more fish than will sup myself and my friend, I will bestow this upon you and your daughter ; for I use to sell none. Milk-woman. Marry ! God requite you, sir, and we '11 eat it cheerfully. And if you come this way a-fishing two months hence, a grace of God ! I '11 give you a syllabub of new verjuice, in a new made haycock, for it. And my maudlin shall sing you one of her best ballads ; for she and I both love all anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men. In the meantime will you drink a draught of red cow's milk ? you shall have it freely. Piscator. No, I thank you ; but, I pray, do us a courtesy that shall stand you and your daughter in nothing, and yet we will think ourselves still something in your debt : it is but to sing us a song that was sung by your daughter when I last passed over this meadow, about eight or nine days since. Milk-woman. What song was it, I pray? Was it Come Shepherds, deck your herds ? or. As at noon Dulcinia rested ? or, Phillida flouts me ? or, Chevy Chase 9 or, Johnny Ami' strong ? or, Troy Town ? f Piscator. No, it is none of those ; it is a song that your daughter sung the first part, and you sung the answer to it. Milk-woman. Oh, I know it now. I learned the first part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my poor daughter ; and the latter part, which indeed fits me best now, but two or three years ago, when the cares of the world began to take hold of me : but you shall, God wdlling, hear them both ; and sung as well as we can, for we both love anglers. Come, Maudlin, sing the first part to the gentlemen, wdth a merry heart ; and I '11 sing the second when you have done. of divers atheistical and blasphetnous discourses ; and that in a quarrel with a serving- man, his rival in a connection with a lewd woman, he received a stab with a dagger, and shortly after died of the stroke. Wood Athen. Oxon. vol. i. 338, and Beard's Theatre of God' t Judgments. * The author seems here to have forgot himself; for, page 72, he says he is to lodge at Trout Hall. + See the songs, As at Noon, Chevy Chase, Johnny Armstrong, and Troy Town, printed after the most authentic copies, in Percy's ReHques of An. dent EnglisJi Pottry. Phillida flouts me, is to be found in Whittingnam's edition of Elegant Extractt in Verse, vol. v. p. 239. THE COMPLETE ANGLER S7 THE MILKMAID S SONG. Come live with me, and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, or hills, or field, Or woods, and steepy mountains yield ; Where we will sit upon the rocks, And see the shepherds feed our flocks. By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals. And I will make thee beds of roses. And then a thousand fragrant posits, A cap of flowers and a kirtle, Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle ; A gown made of the finest wool. Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; Slippei-s, lined choicely for the cold. With buckles of the purest gold ; A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love. Thy silver dishes for thy meat, As precious as the gods do eat, Shall, on an ivory table, be Prepared each day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight, each May morning. If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love. * Venator. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it was not mthout cause that our own Queen Elizabeth did so often wish herself a milkmaid all the month of May, because they are not troubled * Dr Warburton, in his notes on the Merry Wives of Windsor, ascribes this song to Shakespeare : it is true. Sir Hu^h Evans, in the third act of that play, sings four lines of it ; and it occurs in a Collection ofPoemty said to be Shakespeare's, printed by Thomas Cotes for John Benson, 12mo. 1640, with some variations. On the contrarv, it is to be found, with the name of " Christopher Marlow" to it, in England's Helicon; and Walton has just said it was made by Kit Marlow. The reader will judge of tliese evideaces as he pleases. 88 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. with fears and cares, but sing sweetly all the day, and sleep securely all the night : and, ^v^thout doubt, honest, innocent, pretty Maudlin does so. I '11 bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milkmaid's wish upon her, " that she may die in the spring; and, being dead, may have good store of flowers stuck round about her winding sheet." * THE MILKMAID S MOTHER S ANSWER. If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee, and be thy love. But Time drives flocks from field to fold, When rivers rage and rocks grow cold ; Then Philomel becometh dumb. And age complains of care to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields. A honey tongue, a heart of gall. Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies. Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; la folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy buds. Thy coral clasps and amber studs. All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love. What should we talk of dainties, then, Of better meat than 's fit for men ? These are but vain : that 's only good Which God hath bless'd, and sent for food. But could youth last and love still breed. Had joys no date nor age no need ; Then tnose delights my mind might move To live with thee, and be thy love. Mother. Well, I have done my song. But stay, honest anglers ; for I will make Maudlin to sing you one short song more Maudlin, sing that song that you sung last night, when ♦ Sir Thomas Oyerbury's character of a fayre and happy milkmaid, printed with his poem, entitled The Wife, in 12mo. 1655. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 89 young Condon the Shepherd played so purely on his oaten pipe to you and your cousin Betty. Maudlin. I will, mother. I married a wife of late, The more 's my unhappy fate ; I married her for love, As my fancy did me move, And not for a worldly estate ! But oh ! the green sickness Soon changed her likeness ; And all her beauty did fail. But 'tis not so With those that go. Through frost and snow, As all men know, And carry the milking pail. Piscator. Well sung, good woman ! I thank you. 1 11 give you another dish of fish one of these days, and then beg another song of you. Come, scholar ! let Maudlin alone : do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look! yonder comes mine hostess, to call us to supper. How now ! is my brother Peter come ? Hostess. Yes, and a friend with him. They are both glad to hear that you are in these parts ; and long to see you, and long to be at supper, for they be very hungry. CHAPTER V. MORE DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR, AND HOW TO MAKE FOR THE TROUT AN ARTIFICIAL MINNOW AND FLIES, WITH SOME MERRIMENT. Piscator. Well met, brother Peter ; I heard you and a friend would lodge here to-night, and that hath made me to bring my friend to lodge here too. My friend is one that would fain be a brother of the angle : he hath been an angler but this day ; and I have taught him how to catch a Chub by daping with a grasshopper ; and the Chub he caught was a lusty one of nineteen inches long. But pray, brother Peter, who is your companion ? Peter. Brother Piscator, my friend is an honest countryman, and his name is Coridon ; and he is a downright vntty com- panion, that met me here purposely to be pleasant and eat a Trout ; and I have not yet wetted my line since we met toge- ther : but I hope to fit him with a Trout for his breakfast ; for I'll be early up. 90 J HE COMPLETE ANGLER. Piscator. Nay, brother, yoii shall not stay so long ; for, look you, here is a Tkolt* will fill six reasonable bellies Come, hostess, 'dress it pre- sently ; and get us what other meat the house will afford ; and give us some of your best barley wine, the good liquor that our honest forefathers did use to drink of ; the drink which preserved their health, and made them live so long, and to do so many good deeds. Peter. O' my word, this Trout is perfect in season. Come, I thank you, and here is a hearty draught to you, and to all the brothers of the angle wheresoever they be, and to my young brother's good fortune to-morrow. I will furnish him with a rod if you Avill furnish him with the rest of the tackling ; we will set him up and make him a fisher. And I will tell him one thing for his encouragement, that his fortune hath made him happy to be scholar to such a master ; a master tliat knows as much, both of the nature and breeding of fish, as any man ; and can also tell him as well how to catch and cook them, from the Minnow to the Salmon, as any that I ever met withal, ^Piscator. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar to be so suitable to my own humour, which is to be free and pleasant, and civilly merry, that my resolution is to hide nothing that I know from him. Believe me, scholar, this is ray resolution ; and so here 's to you a hearty draught, and to all that love us, and the honest art of Angling. Venator. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow your seed in barren ground ; for I hope to return you an increase answerable to your hopes : but, however, you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable, to my best ability, Piscator. 'Tis enough, honest scholar; come, let's to supper. Come, my friend Coridon, this Trout looks lovely ; it was twenty-two inches when it was taken ; and the belly of it looked some part of it as yellow as a marigold, and part of it as white as a lily ; and yet, methinks, it looks better in this good sauce. * This is the; Wandle variety of Trout, with marbled spots like a Tortoise. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 91 Coridon. Indeed, honest friend, it looks well, and tastes well : I thank you for it, and so doth my friend Peter, or else he is to blame. Peter. Yes, and so I do ; we all thank you : and when we have supped, I ^vill get my friend Coridon to sing you a song for requital. Coridon. I Avill sing a song, if any body vnW sing another : else, to be plain with you, I will sing none. I am none of those that sing for meat, but for company: I say, *' 'Tis merry in hall, when men sing all."* Piscator. I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately made, at my request, by Mr William Basse ; one that had made the choice songs of the Hunter in his Career, and of Tom of Bedlam, f and many others of note ; and this, that I will sing, is in praise of angling. Coridon. And then mine shall be the praise of a country- man's life. What ^vill the rest sing of ? Peter. I will promise you, I ^vill sing another song in praise of angling to-morrow night ; for we will not part till then, but fish to-morrow, and sup together ; and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his business. Venator. 'Tis a match ; and I will provide you a song or a catch against then, too, which shall give some addition of mirth to the company ; for we Avill be civil, and as merry as beggars. Piscator. 'Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to whet our whistles, and so sing away all sad thoughts. Come on, my masters, who begins ? I think it is best to draw cuts, and avoid contention. Peter. It is a match. Look, the shortest cut falls to Coridon. Coridon. Well then, I will begin, for I hate contention. coridon's song. Oh, the sweet contentment The countryman doth find ! Heigh troloUie lollie loe, Heigh trolollie lollie lee. That quiet contemplation Possesseth all my mind ; Then care away, And wend along with me. * Parody on the adage : " It's merry in hall, When beards wag all." — t. e. when all are eating. t This song-, beginning " Forth from my sad and darksome cell," with the music to it, set by Hen. Lawes, is printed in a book, entitled Choice Ayres, Songs, and Dialogues, to sing to the Theorbo, Lute, and Bast Viol, folio, 1675; and in Playford's Antidote against Melancholy, S\n. 1669 j also in Dr Percy's Reliqxtes of Ancient English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 357. 92 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. For courts are full of flattery, As hath too oft been tried ; Heigh troloUie lollie loe, &c. The city full of wantonness, And both are full of pride : Then care away, &c But oh, the honest countryman Speaks truly from his heart. Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. His pride is in his tillage. His hors^es, and his cart : Then care away, &c. Our clothing is good sheep skins, Gray russet for our wives ; Heigh trolollie lollie loe, Ssc. 'Tis warmth and not gay clothing That doth prolong our lives. Then care away, &c. The ploughman, though he labour hard, Yet on the holiday, Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. No emperor so merrily Doth pass his time away. Then care away, &c. . To recompense our tillage, The heavens aflford us showers ; Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. And for our sweet refreshments The earth afliirds us bowers : Then care away, &c. The cuckoo and the nightingale Full merrily do sing, Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. And with their pleasant roundelays Bid welcome to the spring ; Then care away, &c. This is not half the happiness The countryman enjoys ; Heigh trolollie lollie loe, &c. Though others think they have as much. Yet he that says so lies : Then come away, turn Clountryman with me. Jo. Chalkhill.* ♦ John Chalkhill, Esq. of whom mention is made in the author's Life. Mr Singer, in reprinting the elegant poem of Theahnacmd Clearchua, threw THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 98 Piscator. Well sung, Condon! this song was sung with mettle ; and it was choicely fitted to the occasion : I shall love you for it as long as I know you. I would you were a brother of the angle ; for a companion that is cheerful, and free from swearing and scurrilous discourse, is worth gold. I love such mirth as does not make friends ashamed to look upon one another next morning ; nor men, that cannot well bear it, to repent the money they spend when they be warmed with drink. And take this for a rule : you may pick out such times and such companies, that you may make yourselves merrier for a little than a great deal of money ; for " 'Tis the company, and not the charge, that makes the feast ; " and such a companion you prove : I thank you for it. But I will not compliment you out of the debt that I owe you, and therefore I wall begin my song, and wish it may be so well liked : THE ANGLER S SONG. As inward love breeds outward talk, The hound some praise, and some the hawk ; Some, better pleased with private sport, Use tennis, some a mistress court : But these delights I neither wish Nor envy, while I freely fish. Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride ; Who hawks lures oft both far and wide ; Who uses games shall often prove A loser ; but who falls in love Is fetter'd in fond Cupid's snare : My angle breeds me no such care. Of recreation there is none So free as fishing is alone ; All other pastimes do no less Than mind and body both possess ; My hand alone my work can do, So I can fish and study too. I care not, I, to fish in seas. Fresh rivers best my mind do please, out a conjecture, that, as Walton had been silent upon the life of his friend Chalkhill, he might be altogether a fictitious personage, and be only a pseudonyme for Walton himself. This hint by subsequent writers has been considered proof positive. Unfortunately John Chalkhill's tomb of black marble is still to be seen on the walls of Winchester Cathedral, by which it appears he died in May, 1679, at the age of eighty. Walton's preface to Thealma speaks of him as dead in May, 1678 ; but, as the book was not published till 1683, when Walton was ninety years old, it \i probably an error of memory. 94 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Whose sweet calm course I contemplate, And seek in life to imitate : In civil bounds I fain would keep, And for my past offences weep. And when the timorous Trout I wait To take, and he devours my bait, How poor a thing sometimes I find Will captivate a greedy mind : And when none bite, I praise the wise, Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise. But yet, though while I fish I fast, I make good fortune my repast ; And thereunto my friend invite, In whom 1 more than that delight : Who is more welcome to my dish Than to my angle was my tish. As well content no prize to take, As use of taken prize to make : For so our Lord was pleased, when He fishers made fishers of men ; Where (wliich is in no other game) A man may fish and praise his name. The first men that our Saviour dear Did choose to wait upon him here Bless'd fishers were, and fish the last Food was that he on earth did taste : I therefore strive to follow those Whom he to follow him hath chose. Coridon. Well sung, brother ! you have paid your debt in good coin. We anglers are all beholden to the good man that made this song: come, hostess, give us more ale, and let's drmk to him. And nov/ let 's every one go to bed, that we may rise early : but first let's pay our reckoning, for I will have nothing to hinder me in the morning ; for my purpose is to prevent the sun rising. Peter. A match. Come, Coridon, you are to be my bed- fellow. I know, brother, you and your scholar will lie together. But where shall we meet to-morrow night? for my friend Coridon and I will go up the water towards Ware. Piscator. And my scholar and I will go down towards Waltham. Coridon. Then let's meet here, for here are fresh sheets that smell of lavender ; and I am sure we cannot expect better meat or better usage in any place. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 95 Peter. 'Tis a match. Good-night to every body. Piscator. And so say I. Venator. And so say I. Piscator. Good morrow, good hostess. I see my brother Peter is still in bed. Come, give my scholar and me a morning drink, and a bit of meat to breakfast ; and be sure to get a good dish of meat or two against supper, for we shall come home as hungry as hawks. Come, scholar, let's be going. Venator. Well now, good master, as we walk towards the river, give me direction, according to your promise, how I shall fish for a Trout. Piscator. My honest scholar, I will take this very convenient opportunity to do it. The Trout is usually caught with a Worm, or a Minnow, (which some call a Penk,) or with a Fly, namely, either a natural or an artificial fly : concerning which three, I will give you some observations and directions. And, first, for Worms. Of these there be very many sorts : some breed only in the earth, as the Earth-worm ; others of or amongst plants, as the Dug- worm ; and others breed either out of excrements, or in the bodies of living creatures, as in the horns of sheep or deer ; or some in dead flesh, as the Maggot, or Gentle, and others. Now these be most of them particidarly good for parti- cular fishes. But for the Trout, the Dew-worm, which some also call the Lob- worm,* and the Brandling, are the chief; and especially the first for a great Trout, and the latter for a less. There be also of Lob-worms, some called Squirrel-tails, (a worm that has a red head, a streak do^vn the back, and broad tail,) which are noted to be the best, because they are the toughest and most lively, and live longest in the water ; for you are to know that a dead worm is but a dead bait, and like to catch nothing, compared to a lively, quick, stirring worm. And for a Brandling, he is usually found in an old dung-hill, or some very rotten place near to it, but most usually in cow- dung, or hog's-dung, rather than horse-dung, which is some- what too hot and dry for that worm. But the best of them are to be found in the bark of the tanners, which they cast up in heaps after they have used it about their leather. There are also divers other kinds of worms, which, for coloiu: » The Dew- worm, or Earth-worm, is the Lumbrimx gigat of Dugea ; but the Lob- worm is tnken in some ani^liQg booka for the Grub of the Cndichnfer, (Melalovtkavufgarit.) — J. H, 96 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. and shape, alter even as the ground out of which they are got as the Marsh-worm, the Tag-tail, the Flag-worm, the Dock worm, the Oak-worm, the Gilt-tail, the Twachel or Lob- worm, * which of all others is the most excellent bait for a Salmon, and too many to name, even as many sorts as some think there be of several herbs or shrubs, or of several kinds of birds in the air : of which I shall say no more, but tell you, that what worms soever you fish with, are the better of being well scoured, that is, long kept before they be used: and in case you have not been so provident, then the way to cleanse and scour them quickly is to put them all night in water, if they be Lob-worms, and then put them into your bag with fennel. But you must not put your Brandlings above an hour in water, and then put them into fennel, for sudden use; but if you have time, and purpose to keep them long, then they be best preserved in an earthen pot, with good store of moss, which is to be fresh every three or four days in summer, and every week or eight days in winter ; or, at least, the moss taken from them, and clean washed, and wrung betwixt your hands till it be dry, and then put it to them again. And when your worms, especially the Brandling, begins to be sick and lose of his bigness, then you may recover him, by putting a little milk or cream (about a spoonful in a day) into them, by drops on the moss ; and if there be added to the cream an egg beaten and boiled in it, then it will both fatten and preserve them long.f And note, that when the knot, which is near to the middle * To avoid confusion, it maybe necessary to remark, that the same kind of worm is, in ditferent places, known by diftertnt names : thus the Marsh and the Meadow- worm are the same ; and the Lob-worm, or Twachel, is also called the Dew- worm and the Garden-worm ; and the Dock-worm is, in some places, called the Flaff-w^orm. The Tag-tail is found in March and April, in marled lands or meadows, after a shower of rain, or in a morning, when the weather is calm and not cold. To find the Oak.worm, beat on an oak tree that grows over a highway or bare place, and they will fall for you to gather. To find the Dock- worm, go to an old pond or pit, and pull up some of the flags ; shake the roots in the water, and, amongst the fibres that grow from the roots you will find little husks, or cases, of a reddish or yellomsh colour ; open these carefully with a pin, and take from thence a little worm, pale and yellow, or white, like a Gentle, but longer and slenderer, with rows of feet down his belly, and a red head : this is the Dock, or Flag-worm, an excellent bait for Grayling, Tench, Bream, Carp, Roach, and Dace. t The following is also an excellent way : namely. Take a piece of hop- sack, or other very coarse cloth, and wash it clean, and let it dry , theu wet it in the liquor wherein beef has been boiled, (but be cafeful that the beef is fresh, for salt will kill the worms,) and wring it, but not quite dry; put the worms into this cloth, and lay them in an earthen pot, and let them stand from morning till night ; then take the worms from the cloth and wa-h it, and wet it again in some of the liquor : do thus once a-day, and you may keep worms in perfect health, and fit for use, for near a month. Observe that the Lob. worm. Marsh-worm, and Red-worm, will bear more scouring than any others, and are better for long keeping. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 97 of the Brandling, begins to swell, then he is sick ; and if he be not well looked to, is near dying. And for moss, you are to note, that there be divers kinds of it, which I could name to you, but I will only tell you that that which is likest a buck's horn is the best, except it be soft white moss, which grows on some heaths, and is hard to be found. And note, that in a very dry time, when you are put to an extremity for worms, walnut tree leaves squeezed into water, or salt in water, to make it bitter or salt, and then that water poured on the ground where you shall see worms are used to rise in the night, will make them to appear above ground presently.* And you may take notice, some say that camphor put into your bag with your moss and worms gives them a strong and so tempting a smell, that the fish fare the worse and you the better for it. And now, I shall shew you how to bait your hook with a worm, so as shall prevent you from much trouble, and the loss of many a hook too, when you fish for a Trout ^vith a running line ; f that is to say, when you fish for him by hand at the ground. I will direct vou in this as plainly as I can, that you may riot mistake. Suppose it be a big Lob- worm : put your hook into him some- what above the middle, and out again a little below the middle ; having so done, draw your worm above the arming of your hook , but note, that at the entering of your hook, it must not be at » This practice was one of the common sports of school-boys at the time Erasmus wrote his Colloquies. In that entitled Venatio, or Hunting, a company of them go abroad into the fields, and one named Laurence pro- poses fishing ; but having no worms, Bartholus objects the want of them, till Laurence tells him how he may get some. The dialogue is very natural and descriptive, and being but short, is here given. " Lawrence. I should like to go a-lishing ; I have a neat hook. Baftfwliu. But where will you get baits ? Laurence. There are earth-worms everywhere to be had. Bartholus. So there are, if they would but creep out of the ground to you. Lati/rence. I will make a great many thousands jump out presently. Bartholus. How 5* by witchcraft ? Lauretice. You shall see the art. Fill this bucket with water : break these green shells of walnuts to pieces, and put them into it ; wet the ground with the water. Now, mind a little. Do you see them coming out ? Bartholus. I see a miracle j I believe the armed men started out of the earth after this manner, from the serpent's teeth that were sown." The above exclamation is an allusion to the fable in the second book of Ovid's Metamorphoses ; where Cadmus, by scattering the serpent's teeth on the ground, caused armed men to spring out of it. ■J- The running line, so called because it runs along the ground, is made of strong silk, which you may buy at the fishing-tackle shops : but I prefer hair, as being less apt to tangle, and is thus fatted up : About ten inches from the end, fasten a small cleft shot, then make a hole through a pistol or musket bullet, according to the swiftness of the stream you fish in ; and put the line through It, and draw the bullet down to the shot : to the end of your line fasten an Indian grass, or silkworm-gut, with a large hook. Or you may, instead of a bullet, fix four large snot, at the distance of eight inches from the hook. The running line is used for Trout, Grayling, and Salmon-smelts; and is proper only for streams and rapid waters. See part ii. chap. xi. a 98 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. the head-end of the \vorni, but at the tail-end of him, that the point of your hook may come out toward the head-end ; and, having drawn him above the arming of your hook, then put the point of your hook again into the very head of the worm, till it come near to the place where the point of the hook first came out, and then draw back that part of the worm that was above the shank, or arming of your hook, and so fish with it. And if vou mean to fish with two worms, then put the second on before you turn back the hook's head of the first worm. You cannot lose above two or three worms before you attain to what I direct you ; and having attained it, you will find it very useful, and thank me for it ; for you will run en the ground without tangling. Minnow — Cyprinus Phoxinus. — LiNHf^us. Now for the Minnow, or Penk : he is not eanly found and caught till March, or in April, for then he appears first in the river. Nature having taught him to shelter and hide himself in the winter in ditches that be near to the river, and there both to hide and keep himself warm in the mud, or in the weeds, which rot not so soon as in a running river, in which place if he were in winter, the distempered floods that are usually in that season would suffer him to take no rest, but carry him headlong to mills and weirs, to his confusion. And of these Minnows, first, you are to know, that the biggest size is not the best ; and next, that the middle size and the whitest are the best ; and then you are to know, that your Minnow must be so put on your hook that it must turn round when it is drawn against the stream ; and, that it may turn nimbly, you must put on a big sized hook, as I shall now direct you, which is thus : Put your hook in at his mouth, and out at his gill ; then, having drawn your hook two or three inches beyond or through his gill, put it again into his mouth, and the point and beard out at his tail ; and then tie the hook and his tail about, very neatly, with a white thread, which will make it the apter to turn quick in the THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 99 water : that done, pull back that part of your line which was slack when you did put your hook into the Minnow the second time ; I say, pull that part of your line back, so that it shall fasten the head, so that the body of the Minnow shall be almost straight on your hook; this done, try how it will turn, by drawing it cross the water or against a stream ; and if it do not turn nimbly, then turn the tail a little to the right or left hand, and try again till it turn quick, for if not, you are in danger to catch nothing; for know, that it is impossible that it should turn too quick.* And you are yet to know that in case you want a Minnow, then a small Loach, or a Stickle-bag, or any other small fish that will turn quick, will serve as well. And you are yet to know that you may salt them, and by that means keep them ready and fit for use three or four days, or longer ; and that, of salt, bay-salt is the best. And here let me tell you, what many old anglers know right well, that at some times, and in some waters, a Minnow is not to be got ; and therefore, let me tell you, I have, which I ^vill shew to you, an artificial Minnow, that will catch a Trout as well as an artificial fly : and it was made by a hand- some woman that had a fine hand, and a live Minnow lying by her : the mould or body of the Minnow was cloth, and wrought upon, or over it thus, with a needle ; the back of it with very sad French green silk, and paler green silk towards the belly, shadowed as perfectly as you can imagine, just as you see a Minnow : the belly was wrought also with a needle, and it was a part of it white silk, and another part of it with silver thread : the tail and fins were of a quill, which was shaven thin ; the eyes were of two little black beads ; and the head was so shadowed, and all of it so curiously wrought, and so exactly dissembled, that it would beguile any sharp-sighted Trout in a swift stream. t And this Minnow I will now shew you, (look, here it is,) and, if you Kke it, lend it you, to have two or three made by it ; for they be easily carried about an angler, and be of excellent use; for, note, that a large Trout %vill come as fiercely at a Minnow as the highest mettled hawk doth seize on a partridge, or a greyhound on a hare. I have been told that a hundred and sixty Minnows have been found in a Trout's belly : either the Trout had devoured so many, or the miller that gave it a friend of mine had forced them down his throat after he had taken him. Now for Flies, which are the third bait wherewith Trouts are * 1 have never been able to cause a Minnow to spin well in trolling, unless the tail was bent nearly to a semicircJe. — J. R. f Artificial Minnows, made with mother-of-pearJ, are to be purchased at all the tackle shops ; but I should always prefer a live one, when it can be had. In using an artificial Minnow, smear it with fish slime. — J. R. 100 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. usually taken. You are to know that there are as many sorts of flies as there be of fruits : I will name you but some of them ; as the Dun-fly, the Stone-fly, the Red-fly, the Moor-fly, the Tawney-fly, the Shell-fly, the Cloudy or Blackish-fly, the Flag-fly, the Vine-fly: there be of flies, Caterpillars, and Canker-flies, and Bear-flies : and indeed too many either for me to name, or for you to remember. And their breeding is so various and wonderful, that I might easily amaze myself, and tire you in a relation of them. And, yet, I will exercise your promised patience by saying a little of the Caterpillar, or the Palmer-fly,* or worm; that by them you may guess what a work it were, in a discourse, but to run over those very many flies, worms, and little living creatures, with which the sun and summer adorn and beautify the river banks and meadows, both for the recreation and contemplation of us anglers ; pleasures which, I think, myself enjoy more than any other man that is not of my profession. PUny holds an opinion, that many have their birth or being from a dew that in the spring falls upon the leaves of trees ; and that some kinds of them are from a dew left upon herbs or flowers; and others, from a dew left upon coleworts or cabbages : all which kinds of dews being thickened and con- densed, are by the sun's generative heat, most of them, hatched, and in three days made living creatures : f and these of several shapes and colours ; some being hard and tough, some smooth and soft ; some are horned in their head, some in their tail, some have none ; some have hair, some none ; some have sixteen feet, some less, and some have none : but (as our Topsel, in his History of Serpents, hath with great diligence observed) those which have none move upon the earth, or upon broad leaves, their motion being not unlike to the waves of the sea. Some of them he also observes to be bred of the eggs of other Caterpillars, % and that those in their time turn to be butterflies ; and again, that their eggs turn the following year to be Cater- pillars. And some affirm, that every plant has its particular fly or Caterpillar, which it breeds and feeds. I have seen, and may therefore affirm it, a green Caterpillar, or worm, as big as a * What anglers call a Palmer is any caterpillar, and it is called a fly, though it has no wings; because, in angling, they trail it like a fly over the water. — J. R. t All that Walton writes about insects shews the extreme ignorance which then prevailed respecting natural history. Redi, by his ingenious experiments, exploded the notion so long prevalent of flies being bred from putrid meat ; and though Blumenbach, Cuvier, Lamarck, and most of our eminent modern naturalists, again reverted to the doctrine of equivocal or spontaneous generation, particularly in minute animalcules, even this has been very recently exploded by the observations of M. Ehrenberg of Berlin. — J. R. I No Caterpillars lay eggs, though all are hatched from eggs, laid by Butterflies, Moths, or Sand-flies J. R. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 101 small peascod, which had fourteen legs ; eight on the belly, four under the neck, and two near the tail. It was found on a hedge of privet ; * and was taken thence, and put into a large box, and a little branch or two of privet put to it, on which I saw it feed as sharply as a dog gnaws a bone : it lived thus, five or six days, and thrived, and changed the colour two or three times, but by some neglect in the keeper of it, it then died, and did not turn to a fly: but if it had lived, it had doubtless turned to one of those flies that some call flies of prey, which those that walk by the rivers may, in summer, see fasten on smaller flies, and, I think, make them their food. And 'tis observable, that as there be these flies of prey, which be very large, so there be others, very little, created, I think, only to feed them, and breed out of I know not what ; whose life, they say, nature intended not to exceed an hour ; f and yet that life is thus made shorter by other flies, or by accident. 'Tis endless to tell you what the curious searchers into nature's productions have ' observed of these worms and flies : but yet I shall tell you what Aldrovandus, our Topsel, and others, say of the Palmer- worm, or Caterpillar: that whereas others content themselves to feed on particular herbs or leaves (for most think those very leaves that gave them life and shape give them a particular feeding and nourishment, and that upon them they usually abide ;) yet he observes, that this is called a Pilgrim, or Palmer-worm, for his very wandering life and various food ; not contenting himself, as others do, with any one certain place for his abode, nor any certain kind of herbs or flowers for his feeding, but will boldly and disorderly wander up and down, and not endure to be kept to a diet, or fixed to a particular place. J Nay, the very colours of Caterpillars are, as one has observed, very elegant and beautiful. I shall, for a taste of the rest, describe one of them ; which I will, some time the next month, shew you feeding on a willow tree ; and you shall find him punctually to answer this very description : His lips and mouth somewhat yellow ; his eyes black as jet ; his forehead purple ; his feet and hinder parts green ; his tail two-forked and black ; the whole body stained with a kind of red spots, which run along the neck and shoulder-blade, not unlike the form of St Andrew's cross, or ihe letter X, made thus cross-wise, and a white line drawn down his back to his tail ; all which add much beauty to his whole body. And it is to me observable, * The Caterpillar of the Privet Hawk Moth, (Sphinx Ltgvitri,) which is not, as Walton suspects,* fly of prey, or Dragon-fly. — J. R. f This is quite fabulous. — J. R. t These absucd notions arose from confounding some hundreds of species under one common name. — J. R. 102 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. that at a fixed age this caterpillar gives over to eat, and towards winter comes to be covered over with a strange shell or crust, called an aurelia: and so lives a kind of dead hfe, without eating, all the winter. And as others of several kinds turn to be several kinds of flies and vermin, the spring following, so this caterpillar then turns to be a painted butterfly Come, come, my scholar, you see the river stops our morning walk : and I will also here stop my discourse : only as we sit down under this honeysuckle hedge, whilst I look a line to fit the rod that our brother Peter hath lent you, I shall, for a little confirmation of what I have said, repeat the observation of Du Bartas [6 Day ;] God, not contented to each kind to give And to infuse the virtue generative. By his wise power made many creatures breed Of lifeless bodies, without Venus' deed : So the cold humour breeds the Salamander, Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander, With child with hundred winters, with her touch Quenches the fire, though glowing ne'er so much. So in the fire, in burning furnace, springs ■*■ The fly Perausta with the flaming wings ; Without the fire it dies, in it joys. Living in that which all things else destroys. So slow Bootes underneath him sees. In th' icy islands, goslings hatch 'd of trees ; Whose fruitful leaves falling into the water. Are tum'd, tis known, to living fowls soon afttfr So rotten planks of broken ships do change To barnacles. O transformation strange ! 'Twas first a green tree, then a broken hull. Lately a mushroom ; now a flying gull. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 103 Venator. Oh, my good master, this morning walk has been spent to ray great pleasure and wonder ; but I pray, when shall I have your direction how. to make artificial flies, like to those that the Trout loves best ; and, also, how to use them ? Piscator. My honest scholar, it is now past five of the clock ; we \vill fish till nine ; and then go to breakfast. Go you to yonder sycamore tree, and hide your bottle of drink under the hollow root of it ; for about that time, and in that place, we will make a brave breakfast with a piece of powdered beef, and a radish or too, that I have in my fish bag : we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest, wholesome hungry breakfast. And I will then give you direction for the making and using of your flies : and in the meantime, there is your rod and line : and my advice is, that you fish as you see me do, and let 's try which can catch the first fish. Venator. I thank you, master. I ^vill observe and practise your directions as far as I am able. Piscator. Look you, scholar ; you see I have hold of a good fish : I now see it is a Trout. I pray, put that net under him ; and touch not my line, for if you do, then we break all.* Well done, scholar : I thank you. Now for another. Trust me, I have another bite. Come, scholar, come, lay down your rod, and help me to land this as you did the other. So now we shall be sure to have a good dish of fish to supper. Venator. I am glad of that ; but I have no fortune : sure, master, yours is a better rod and better tackling. Piscator. Nay, then, take mine ; and I will fish with yours. Look you, scholar, I have another. Come do as you did before. And now I have a bite at another. Oh me ! he has broke all : there 's half a line, and a good hook lost. Venator. Ay, and a good Trout too. Piscator. Nay, the Trout is not lost ; for pray take notice, no man can lose what he never had. Venator. Master, I can neither catch \vith the first nor second angle : I have no fortune. Piscator. Look you, scholar, I have yet another. And now, having caught three brace of Trouts, I will tell you a short tale as we walk towards our breakfast. A scholar, a preacher I should say, that was to preach, to procure the approbation of a parish that he might be their lecturer, had got from his fellow pupil the copy of a sermon that was first preached with great commmendation by him that composed it; and though the borrower of it preached it, word for word, as it was at first, « This is an important maxim in angling ; for while the line flows free from the rod, this gives way by bending as the fish tugs ; wliile catching the line is certain to snap it. —J. R. 104 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. yet it was utterly disliked as it was preached by the second to his congregation, which the sermon borrower complained of to the lender of it, and thus was answered: " I lent you, indeed, my fiddle, but not my fiddlestick ; for you are to know, that every one cannot make music with my words, which are fitted for my owti mouth." And so, my scholar, you are to know, that as the ill pronunciation or ill accenting of words in a sermon spoils it, so the ill carriage of your line, or not fishing, even to a foot, in a right place, makes you lose your labour : and you are to know, that though you have my fiddle, that is, my very rod and tacklings with which you see I catch fish, yet you have not ray fiddlestick, that is, you yet have not skill to know how to carry your hand and line, nor how to guide it to a right place : and this must be taught you ; for you are to remember, I told you angling is an art, either by practice or a long observation, or both. But take this for a rule : When you fish for a Trout with a worm, let your line have so much, and not more lead than will fit the stream in which you fish ; that is to say, more in a great troublesome stream than in a smaller that is quieter ; as near as may be, so much as will sink the bait to the bottom, and keep it still in motion, and not more. But now, let's say grace, and fall to breakfast. What say you, scholar, to the providence of an old angler ? Does not this meat taste well ? and was not this place well chosen to eat it ? for this sycamore tree will shade us from the sun's heat. Venator. All excellent good ; and my stomach excellent good, too. And now I remember, and find that true which devout Lessius says, " that poor men, and those that fast often, have much more pleasure in eating than rich men and gluttons, that always feed before their stomachs are empty of their last meat, and call for more; for by that means they rob themselves of that pleasure that hunger brings to poor men." And I do seriously approve of that saying of yours, " that you had rather be a civil, well governed, well grounded, temperate poor angler, than a drunken lord : " but I hope there is none such. How- ever, I am certain of this, that I have been at many very costly dinners that have not afforded me half the content that this has done ; for which I thank God and you. And now, good master, proceed to your promised direction for making and ordering my artificial fly. Piscator. My honest scholar, I will do it ; for it is a debt due tmto you by my promise. And because you shall not think yourself more engaged to me than you really are, I will freely give you such directions as were lately given to me by an inge- nious brother of the angle, an honest man and a most excellent fly fisher. You are to note, that there are twelve kinds of artificial made THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 105 flies, to angle vvitli upon the top of the water. Note, by the way, that the fittest season of using these is a blustering windy day, when the waters are so troubled that the natural fly cannot be seen, or rest upon them. The first is the Dun-fly, in March : the body is made of dun wool ; the wings, of the par- tridge's feathers. The second is another Dun-fly : the body of black wool ; and the M^ings made of the black drake's feathers, and of the feathers under his tail. The third is the Stone-fly, in April : the body is made of black wool ; made yellow under the wings and under the tail, and so made mth wings of the drake. The fourth is the Ruddy-fly, in the beginning of May : the body made of red wool, wrapt about with black silk ; and the feathers are the wings of the drake : nath the feathers of a red capon also, which hang dangling on his sides next to the tail. The fifth is the Yellow or Greenish, in May likewise : the body made of yellow wool; and the wings made of the red cock's hackle or tail. The sixth is the Black-fly, in May also : the body made of black wool, and lapped about like the herl of a peacock's tail : the \vings are made of the wings of a brown capon, with his blue feathers in his head. The seventh is the sad Yellow-fly, in June : the body is made of black wool, ^vith a yellow list on either side ; and the wings taken off the ^vings of a buzzard, bound with black braked hemp. The eighth is the Moorish-fly : made with the body of duskish wool ; and the wings made of the blackish mail of the drake. The ninth is the Tawny- fly, good until the middle of June : the body made of tavny wool ; the wings made contrary, one against the other, made of the whitish mail of the wild drake. The tenth is the Wasp-fly, in July : the body made of black wool, lapt about ^^^th yellow silk ; the wings made of the feathers of the drake, or of the buzzard. The eleventh is the Shell-fly, good in mid July : the body made of greenish wool, lapt about with the herl of a peacock's tail; and the wings made of the wings of the Buzzard. The twelfth is the Dark Drake-fly, good in August : the body made with black wool, lapt about with black silk ; his \vdngs are made with the mail of the black drake, \rith a black head. Thus have you a jury of flies, likely to betray and condemn all the Trouts in the river. I shall next give you some other directions for fly-fishing, such as are given by Mr Thomas Barker, * a gentleman that ♦ This g-entleman, addressing himself to the noble lord to whom his book is dedicated, thus begins : " L nder favour, Iwill compliraent, and put a case to your honour. I met with a man ; and upon our discourse he fell out with me, having a food weapon, but neither stomach nor skill : I say this man may come ome by Weeping-cross ; I will caiise the clerk to toll his knell. It is the very like case to the gentleman angler, that goeth to the river for his pleasure. This angler hath neither j udgment, nor experience ; he may 106 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. hath spent much time in fishing : but I shall do it with a little variation. First, let your rod be light, and very gentle : I take the best to be of two pieces. * And let not your line exceed (especially come home lisrhtly laden at his leisure," •• A man that goeth to the river for his pleasure, roust understand, when he cometh there, to set forth his tackle. The first thing he must do, is to observe the wind and sun for day, the moon, the stars, and the wanes of the air for night, to set forth his tackles for day or night; and accordingly to go for his pleasure, and some profit." " Now 1 am determined to angle with ground-baits, and set my tackles to my rod, and go to my pleasure. I begin at the uppermost part of the stream, carrying my line with an upright hand, feeling my plummet running truly on tlie ground some ten inches from the hook, plumming my line according to the swiftness of the stream I angle in ; for one plummet will not serve for all streams : for the true angling is, that the plummet run truly on the ground." " My lord sent to me at sun-going-down, to provide hira a good dish of Trouts against the next morning, by six o'clock. 1 went to the door to see how the wanes of the air were like to prove. I returned answer, that I doubted not, God willing, but to be provided at the time appointed. I went presently to the river, and it proved very dark: I threw out a line of three silks and three hairs twisted, for the uppermost part ; and a line of two hairs and two silks twisted, for the lower part — with a good large hook. 1 baited my hook with two Lob-worm.s, the four ends hanging as meet as I could guess them in the dark. I fell to angle. It proved very dark, so that I had good sport ; angling with the Lob- worms as I do with the flies, on the top of the water : — You will hear the fish rise at the top of the water ; then, you must loose a slack line down to the bottom as nigh as you can guess ; then hold your line straight, feeling the fish bite ; give time, there is no doubt of losing the fish, for there is not one amongst twenty but doth gorge the bait : the least stroke you can strike fastens the hook, and makes the fish sure ; letting the fish take a turn or two, you may take him up with your hands. The night began to alter and grow somewhat lighte; ; I took off the Lob-worras, and set to my rod a white Palmer-fly made of a large hook ; I had good sport for the time, until it grew lighter ; so I took off the white Palmer, and set to a red Palmer, made of a large hook : I had good sport until it grew very light: then I took off the red Palmer, and set to a black Palmer; I had good sport, and made up the dish of fish. So I put up my tackles, and was with my lord at his time appointed for the service. " These three flies, with the help of the Lob-worms, serve to angle all the year for the night ; observing the times (as I have shewed you,) in this nightwork ; the wliite fly for darkness, the red fly in medio, and the black fly for lightness. This is the true experience for angling in the night, which is the surest angling of all, and killeth the greatest Trouts. Your lines may be strong, but must not be longer than your rod. " Now, having taken a good dish of Trouts, I presented them to my lord. He having provided good company, commanded me to turn cook, and dress them for dinner ' " There comes an honest gentleman, a familiar friend, tome — he was an angler — begins to compliment with me, and asked me how I did ? when I had been angling? and demanded, in discourse, what was the reason I did not relate in ray book the dressing of his dish of fish, which he loved ? I pray you, sir, what dish of Trouts was that ? He said it was a dish of close-boiled Trouts, buttered with eggs. My answer was to him, that every scullion dresseth that dish against his will, because he cannot calvor them. I will tell you, in short: Put your Trouts into the kettle when the kettle is set to the fire, and let them boil gently, as many cooks do ; and they shall boil close enough ; which is a good dish, buttered with eggs, good for ploughmen, but not for the palate. Sir, I hope I have givea you satisfaction." * For your rod, and also for a fly-line, take the directions contaiaed ia the notes on chap. xxi. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 107 for three or four links next to the hook,) I say, not exceed three or four hairs at the most, though you may fish a little stronger above, in the upper part of your line ; but if you can attain to angle with one hair, you shall have more rises, and catch more fish. Now you must be sure not to cumber yourself mth too long a hne, as most do. And before you begin to angle, cast to have the wind on your back ; and the sun, if it shines, to be before you ; and to fish down the stream ; * and carry the point or top of your road downward, by which means the shadow of yourself, and rod too, will be the least offensive to the fish ; for the sight of any shade amazes the fish, and spoils your sport, of which you must take a great care. In the middle of March, till which time a man should not in honesty catch a Trout, or in April, if the weather be dark, or a little windy or cloudy, the best fishing is with the Palmer- worm, of which I last spoke to you ; but of these there be divers kinds, or at least of divers colours : these and the May-fly are the ground of aU fly anghng : which are to be thus made : First, you must arm f your hook A^dth the line, in the inside of it, then take your scissars, and cut so much of a brown mallard's feather as, in your own reason, will make the wings of it, you having withal regard to the bigness or littleness of your hook ; then lay the outmost part of your feather next to your hook, then the point of your feather next the shank of your hook ; and, havirg so done, whip it three or four times about the hook with the same silk with which your hook was armed ; and having made the silk fast, take the hackle of a cock or capon's neck, or a plover's top, which is usually better : take off the one side of the feather, then take the hackle, silk or crewel, gold or silver thread, make these fast at the bent of the hook, that is to say, below your arming ; then you must take the hackle, the silver or gold thread, and work it up to the wings, shifting or still removing your finger as you turn the silk about the hook, and still looking, at every stop or turn, that your gold, or what materials soever you make your fly of, do lie right and neatly, and if you find they do so, then when you have made the head, make all fast : and then work your hackle up to the head, and make that fast : and then, \vith a needle, or pin, divide the wing into two, and then, with the arming silk, whip it about cross-ways betwixt the wings, and then with your thumb you must turn the point of the feathers towards the bent of the hook, and then work three or four * This must be taken, to walk down the stream ; for it is quite impos- sible to keep a fly above water, if dra%vn down the stream, as most of the books absurdly direet. — J. R. f To arm is an angling term, meaning to tie, or whip round. — J. R, 108 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. times about the shank of the hook, and then view the pro- portion, and if all be neat, and to your liking, fasten. I confess, no direction can be given to make a man of a duU capacity able to make a fly well : and yet I know this, with a little practice, \vill help an ingenious angler in a good degree. But to see a fly made by an artist in that kind is the best teaching to make it. And, then, an ingenious angler may walk by the river, and mark what flies fall on the water that day, and catch one of them, if he see the Trouts leap at a fly of that kind ; and then having always hooks ready hung with him, and having a bag also always with him, with bear's hair, or the hair of a brown or sad-coloured heifer, hackles of a cock or a capon, several coloured silk and crewel to make the body of the fly, the feathers of a drake's head, black or browm sheep's wool, or hog's wool or hair, thread of gold and of silver silk of several colours, (especially sad-coloured, to make the fly's head ;) and there be also other coloured feathers,* both of little birds and » The author not having particularly enumerated the materials necessary for fly-making, it will not be improper, once for all, to do it here. And, first, you must be provided with bear's hair of divers colours ; as gray, dun, light and dark coloured, bright brown and that which shines ; also camel's hair, dark, light, and of a colour between both ; badger's hair, or fur; spaniel's hair from behind the ear, light and dark brown, blackish and black; hog's down, wh ch may be had about Christmas, of butchers, or rather of those that make brawn ; it should be plucked from under the throat, and other soft places of the hog, and must be of the following colours, namely, black, red, whitish, and sandy ; and for other colours, you may get them dyed at a dyer's : seal's fur is to be had at the trunk- makers ; get this also dyed of the colours of cow's and calf's hair, in all the different shades, from the light to the darkest brown ; you will then never need cow's or calf's hair, both which are harsh, and will never work kindly, nor lie handsomely : get also mohairs, black, blue, purple, white, violet ; Isabella, which colour is described in a note on Cotton's Flies for March; Philomot, from feuille mort, a dead leaf; yellow, and orange; camlets, both hair and worsted, blue, yellow, dun, light and dark brown, red, violet, purple, black, horse-flesh, pink, and orange colours. Some recommend the hair of abortive colts and calves ; but seal's fur, dyed as above, is much better. A piece of an old Turkey carpet will furnish excellent dubbing : untwist the yarn, and pick out the wool, carefully separating the difterent colours, and lay it by. Some use for dubbing, barge-sail, concerning which the reader is to know, that the sails of west-country and other bari^es, when old, are usually converted into tilts, under which there is almost a continual smoke arising from the fire and the steam of the beef-kettle, which all such barges carry, and which in time dyes the tilt of a fine brown ; this would be excellent dubbing, but that the materials of these sails is sheep's wool, which soaks in the water, and soon becomes very heavy : however, get of this as many different shades as you can, and have seal's fur and hog- wool dyed to matt^h them ; which, by reason they are more turgid, stiJF, and light, and so float better, are, in most cases, to be preferred to worsted, crewels, and, indeed, to every other kind of wool ; and observe, that the hog-wool is best for large, and the seal's fur for small flies. Get also furs of the following animals, namely, the squirrel, particularly from its tail ; fox-cub, from the tail, where it is downy, and of an ash colour ; an old fox ; an old otter ; otter cub ; badger ; f ulimart, or THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 109 of speckled fowl, — I say, having those \\ith him in a bag, * and trying to make a fly, though he miss at lirst, yet shall he at last hit it better, even to such a perfection as none can well teach him. And if he hit to make his fly right, and have the luck to hit, also, where there is store of Trouts, a dark day, and a right wind, he will catch such store of them as \vill encourage him to grow more and more in love with the art of fly-making. Venator. But, my loving master, if any wind will not serve, then I wish I were in Lapland, to buy a good wind of one of the honest witches, that sell so many winds there, and so cheap. Piscator. Marry, scholar, but I would not be there, nor indeed from under this tree : for look how it begins to rain, and by the clouds, if I mistake not, we shall presently have a smoking shower ; and therefore sit close ; this sycamore tree will shelter us : and I will tell you, as they shall come into my mind, more observations of fly-fishing for a Trout. But first for the wind : you are to take notice, that of the filmert ; a hare, from the neck, where it is of the colour of withered fern ; and above all, the yellow fur of the martern, from off the gills or spots under the jaws. All these, and almost every other kind of fur, are easily got at the furrier's. Hackles are a very important article in fly-making ; they are the long slender feathers that hang from the head of a cock down his neck ; there may also be fine ones got from near his tail ; be careful that they are not too rank, which they are when the fibres are more than half an inch long, and for some purposes these are much too big ; be provided with these of the following colours, namely, red, dun, yellowish, white, orange, and perfect black ; and whenever you meet, alive or dead, with the cock of the game breed, whose hackle is of a strong brown-red, never fail to buy him : but observe, that the feathers of a cock chicken, be they ever so fine for shape and colour, are good for little, for they are too downy and weak to stand erect after they are once wet, and so are those of the bantam cock. Feathers are absolutely necessary for the wings and other parts of flies : get therefore feathers from the back and other parts of the wild mallard, or dr.ike ; the feathers of a partridge, especially those red ones that are in the tail ; feathers from a cock pheasant's breast and tail ; the wings of a blackbird, a brown hen, of a starling, a jay, a land-rail, a throstle, a field- fare, and a water-coot ; the feathers from "the crown of the pewit, plover, or lapwing ; green and copper-coloured peacock's, and black ostrich, herle ; feathers from a heron's neck and wings. And remember, that, in most instances, where the drake's or wild mallard's feather is hereafter (in the text) directed, that from a starling's wing will do much better, as being of a finer grain, and less spongy. Be provided with marking silk of all colours ; fine, but very strong, flaw-bilk ; gold and silver flatted wire, or twist ; a sharp knife ; hooks of all sizes; hog's bristles for loops to your flies; shoemaker's wax; a larere needle to raise your dubbing, when flatted with working; and a small, but sharp pair of scissars. And lastly, if any materials required in the subsequent li.«ts of flies may have been omitted in the foregoing catalogue, be careful to add them to your former stock, as often as you shall find any such omissions. Remember, with all your dubbing, to mix bear's hair and hog's wool, which are stiff, and not apt to imbibe the water, as the fine furs and most other kind of dubbing do j and remember also, that martera's fur is the best yellow you can use. * To be purchased at the tackle shops. — J. R. 110 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. winds, the south ^vind is said to be the best. One observes, that when the wind is south, It blows your bait into a fish's mouth. Next to that, the west wind is believed to be the best : and having told you that the east wind is the worst, I need not tell which wind is the best in the third degree : and yet (as Solomon observes,) that " he that considers the Avdnd shall never sow : " so he that busies his head too much about them, if the weather be not made extreme cold by an east wind, shall be a little superstitious : for as it is observed by some, that " there is no good horse of a bad colour ;" so I have observed, that if it be a cloudy day, and not extreme cold, let the wind sit in what corner it will, and do its worst, I heed it not. And yet take this for a rule, that I would willingly fish, standing on the lee- shore ; and you are to take notice, that the fish lies or swims nearer the bottom, and in deeper water, in ^vinter than in summer ; and also nearer the bottom in a cold day, and then gets nearest the lee-side of the water. But I promised to tell you more of the fly-fishing for a Trout, which I may have time enough to do, for you see it rains May- butter. First, for a May-fly, — you may make his body with greenish-coloured crewel, or willo wish- colour, darkening it in most places ^vith waxed silk, or ribbed with black hair, or some of them ribbed with silver thread ; and such wngs, for the colour, as you see the fly to have at that season, nay, at that very day on the water. Or you may make the Oak-fly, \vith an orange, tawny, and black ground ; and the brown of a mallard's feather for the wings.* And you are to know, that these two are most excellent flies, that is, the May-fly and the Oak-fly. And let me again tell you, that you keep as far from the water as you can possibly, whether you fish with a fly or worm, and fish down the stream. And when you fish vnth a fly, if it be possible, let no part of your line touch the water, f but your fly only ; and be still moving your fly upon the water, or casting it into the water, you yourself being also always moving down the stream. * Some dub the Oak-fly with black wool, and Isabella-coloured mohair, and bright brownish bear's hair, warped on with yellow silk, but the head of an ash colour ; others dub it with an orange, tawny, and black ground ; others with blackish wool and gold twist ; the wings of the brown of a mallard's feather. Rowlkcr, in Iiis Art of Angling, p. 63, says, " The body may be made of a bittern's feather, and the wings of the feather of a woodcock's wing." fThis is impossible, unless you dub with the artificial as with the natural fly, which is never practised. The method of throwing or casting is more particularly treated of, in the notes on chap. v. part ii. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Ill Mr Barker commends several sorts of the Palmer-flies, not only those ribbed with silver and gold, but others that have their bodies all made of black, or some with red, and a red hackle. You may also make the Hawthorn-fly, which is all black, and not big, but very small, the smaller the better ; or the Oak-fly, the body of which is orange-colour and black crewel, with a brown wing ; or a fly made mth a Peacock's feather is excel- lent in a bright day : * you must be sure you want not in your magazine-bag the Peacock's feather, and grounds of such wool and crewel as Mdll make the Grasshopper. And note, that usually the smallest flies are the best ; and note also, that the light fly does usually make most sport in a dark day, and the darkest and least fly in a bright or clear day : and lastly, note, that you are to repair upon any occasion to your magazine-bag ; and upon any occasion, vary and make them lighter or sadder, according to your fancy, or the day. And now I shall tell you, that the fisliing with a natural fly is excellent, and affords much pleasure. They may be found thus : the May-fly, usually in and about that month, near to the river side, especially against rain : the Oak-fly, on the butt or body of an oak or ash, from the beginning of May to the end of August ; it is a brownish fly and easy to be so found, and stands usually with his head do^^^lward, that is to say, towards the root of the tree : f the small Black -fly, or Hawthorn fly, is to be had on any Hawthorn bush after the leaves be come forth. With these and a short line, (as 1 shewed to angle for a Chub,) * A brother of the angle must always be sped With three blark Palmers, and also two red j And all made with hackles. In a doudy day. Or in windy weather, angle you may. But morning and evening, if the day be bright ; And the chief point of all is to keep out of sight. *' In the month of May, none hut the May-fly, For every month, one," is a pitiful lie. The black Hawthorn-fly must be very small ; And the sandy hog's-hair is, sure, best of all (For the mallard-wing May-fly, and peacock's train. Will look like the Flesh-fly) to kill Trout amain. The Oak.fly is good, if it have a brown wing. So is the Grasshopper, that in July doth sinsr; With a green body make him, on a middle sized hook, But when you have catch 'd fish, then play the good cook. Once more, my good brother, I 'il speak in thy ear ; Hog's, red cow's, and bear's wool, to float best appear; And so doth your fur, if ritrhtly it fall ; But always remember, Make two, and make all. A specimen of Mr Barker's poetri/. + The Oak-fly is known also by the names of the Ash-fly and the Wood- cock-fly and in Shropshire it is called the Cannon, or Downliill fly. 112 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. you may dape, or dop, and also with a Grasshopper, behind a tree, or in any deep hole, still making it to move on the top of the water as if it were alive, and still keeping yourself out of sight, you shall certainly have sport, if there be Trouts ; yea, in a hot day, but especially in the evening of a hot day, you will have sport. And now, scholar, my direction for fly-fishing is ended with this shower, for it has done raining. And now, look about you and see how pleasantly that meadow looks ; nay, and the earth smells as sweetly too. Come, let me tell you what holy Mr Herbert says of such days and flowers as these, and then we will thank God that we enjoy them, and walk to the river, and sit down quietly, and try to catch the other brace of Trouts. Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night, For thou must die. Sweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave. Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave — And thou must die. Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie ; My music shews you have your closes — And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives, But when the whole world turns to coal, Then chiefly lives.. Venator. I thank you, good master, for your good direction for fly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoyment of the pleasant day, which is so far spent without offence to God or man : and I thank you for the sweet close of your discourse with Mr Herbert's verses, who, I have heard, loved angling ; and I do the rather believe it, because he had a spirit suitable to anglers, and to those primitive Christians that you love, and have so much commended. Piscator. WeU, my loving scholar, and I am pleased to know that you are so well pleased wth my direction and discourse. And since you like these verses of Mr Herbert's so well, let me tell you what a reverend and learned divine that professes to imitate him (and has indeed done so most excellently) hath writ of our book of Common Prayer ; which I know you will like the better, because he is a friend of mine, and lam sure no enemy to angling : THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 113 What ! Praytr by the Book 9 aud Common ? Yes ! why not ? The spirit of grace And supplication Is not left free alone For time and place> But manner too : to read or speak by rote, Is ail alike to him, that prays In 's heart, what with his mouth he says. They that in private, by themselves alone, Do pray, may take What liberty they please. In choosing of the ways Wherein to make Their soul's most intimate aflfectlons known To Him that sees in secret, when They're most conceal'd from other men. But he that unto others leads the way In public prayer, Should do it so As all that hear may know They need not fear To tune their hearts unto his tongue, and say Amen; not doubt they were betray 'd To blaspheme, when they meant to have pray'd. Devotion will add life unto the letter : And why should not That which authority Prescribes, esteemed be Advantage got ? ■ If the prayer be good, the commoner the better ; Prayer in the Church's words, as well As sense, of all prayers bears the bell. — Ch. Harvie. And now, scholar, I think it will be time to repair to our angle rods, which we left in the water to fish for themselves ; and you shall choose which shall be yours ; and it is an eveu lay, one of them catches. And, let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a dead rod, and laying night hooks, are like putting money to use ; for they both work for the o\\Tiers when they do nothing but sleep, or eat, or rejoice, as you know we have done this last hour, and sat as quietly and as free from cares under this sycamore, as Virgil's Tityrus and his Meliboeus did vmder their broad beech tree. No life, my honest scholar, no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well governed angler : for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business, and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then we sit on cowslip banks, hear the birds 114 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. sing, and possess ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams, which we now see ghde so quietly by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling, as Dr Boteler said of strawberries, •' Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did ; " and so (if I might be judge) •• God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling." I '11 tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of Florence : " that they were too pleasant to be looked on, but only on holidays." As I then sat on this very grass, I turned my present thoughts into verse : 'twas a wish, which I'll repeat to you. THE angler's wish. I in these flowery meads would be : These crystal streams should solace me ; To whose harmonious bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice. Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love : Or, on that bank, feel the west wind Breathe health and plenty : please my mind, To see sweet dewdrops kiss these flowers, And then wash'd ofl^ by April showers ; Here, hear my Kenna sing a song : * There, see a blackbird feed her young. Or a laverock build her nest : Here, give my weary spirts rest. And raise my low-pitch'd thoughts above Earth, or what poor mortals love : Thus, free from lawsuits and the noise Of princes' courts, I would rejoice ; Or, with my Bryan f and a book, Loiter long days near Shawford brook ; | There sit by him, and eat my meat. There see the sun both rise and set : * Like Hermit poor. •f- A fripnd conjectures this to be tlie name of his favourite dog. X Shawford brook, part of the river Sow, running through the very land which Walton bequeathed in his will to the corporation of Stafford to find coals for the poor ; the right of fishery in which attaches to this little estate. The house, described by Walton in his will, is now divided. The brook is a beautiful winding stream, and the situation such as would be likely to create admiration iD a mind like Walton's. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 113 There bid ^ood morning to next day ; There meditate my time away ; And angle on ; and beg to have A quiet passage to a welcome grave. When I had ended this composure, I left this place, and saw a brother of the angle sit under that honeysuckle hedge, one that >vill prove worth your acquaintance. I sat down by him, and presently we met with an accidental piece of merriment, which I will relate to you ; for it rains still. On the other side of this very hedge sat a gang of gipsies ; and near to them sat a gang of beggars. The gipsies were then to divide all the money that had been got that week, either by stealing linen or poultry, or by fortune-telling, or legerdemain ; or, indeed, by any other sleights and secrets belonging to their mysterious government. And the sum that was got that week proved to be but twenty and some odd shillings. The odd money was agreed to be distributed amongst the poor of their own corporation : and for the remaining twenty shillings, that was to be divided unto four gentlemen gipsies, according to their several degrees in their commonwealth. And the first or chiefest gipsy was, by consent, to have a third part of the 20s. which all men know is 6s. 8d. The second was to have a fourth part of the 20s. which all men know to be 5s. The third was to have a fifth part of the 20s. which all men know to be 4s. The fourth and last gipsy was to have a sixth part of the 20s. which all men know to be 3s. 4d. As, for example, 3 times 6s. 8d. is 20s. And so is 4 times 5s. . . 20s. And so is 5 times 4s. . 20s. And so is 6 times 3s. 4d. . 20s. And yet he that divided the money was so very a gipsy, that though he gave to every one these said sums, yet he kept one shilling of it for himself. As for example. s. d. 6 8 5 0 4 0 3 4 make but 19 0 But now you shall know, that when the four gipsies saw that he had got one shilling by dividing the money, though not ]16 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. one of them knew any reason to demand more, yet, like lords and courtiers, every gipsy envied liim that was the gainer, and Avrangled with him ; and every one said the remaining shilling belonged to him ; and so they fell to so high a contest about it, as none that knows the faithfulness of one gipsy to another will easily believe ; only we that have lived these last twenty years are certain that money has been able to do much mischief. However, the gipsies were too wise to go to law, and did therefore choose their choice friends. Rook and Shark, and our late English Gusman,* to be their arbitrators and umpires. And so they left this honeysuckle hedge, and went to tell fortunes and cheat, and get more money and lodging in the next village. Wlien these were gone we heard as high a contention amongst the beggars, whether it was easiest to rip a cloak or unrip a cloak ? One beggar affirmed it was all one : but that was denied, by asking her, if doing and undoing were all one? Then another said, 'twas easiest to unrip a cloak ; for that was to let it alone: but she \va.s answered, by asking her how she unripped it if she let it alone ? and she confessed herself mistaken. These and twenty such like questions were proposed and answered >vith as much beggarly logic and earnest- ness as was ever heard to proceed from the mouth of the most pertinacious schismatic ; and sometimes all the beggars (whose number was neither more nor less than the poets' nine muses) talked all together about this ripping and unripping ; and so loud that not one heard what the other said : but at last, one beggar craved audience, and told them that old Father Clause, whom Ben Jonson, in his Beggar's J3ush,j created king of their corpora- tion, was that night to lodge at an alehouse called '< Catch-her- by-the-way," not far from Waltham Cross, and in the high road towards London; and he therefore desired them to spend no more time about that and such like questions, but refer all to Father Clause at night, for he was an upright judge, and in the meantime draw cuts, what song should be next sung, and who should sing it. They all agreed to the motion ; and the lot fell to her that was the youngest and veriest virgin of the company. And she sung Frank Davidson's song, which he made forty years ago ; and all the others of the company joined to sing the burthen with her. The ditty was this : but first the burthen : * Alluding- to a work that appeared a few years before, entitled, T7ie English Gusman, or The History of that unparalleled Thief, James Hind^ written by George Fidge. 4to. Loud. 1632. Hind made a considerable figure at the time of the great Rebellion, and fought, both at Worcester and Warrington, on the king's side. He was arrested, by order of the Peirlia- ment, in 1651. t The comedy of The Royal Merchant, or, Beggar^s Bush, was written by Beaumont and Fletcher, and not by Ben Jonson. It has also been attributed wholly to Fletcher. THE COMPLETE ANGLEU. 117 Bright shines the sun ; play, beggai-s, play ! Here 's scraps enough to s<;rve to-day. WTiat noise of viols is so sweet, As when our merry clappers ring? What mirtli doth want when beggars meet ? A beggar's life is for a king. Eat, drink, and play, sleep when we list. Go where we will, so stocks be iniss'd. Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. The world is ours, and ours alone, For we alone have world at will ; We purchase not, all is our own, Both fields and streets we beggars fill : Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play 1 Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. A hundred herds of black and white Upon our gowns securely feed ; And yet if any dare us bite, He dies, therefore, as sure as creed : Thus beggars lord it as they please. And only beggars hve at ease. Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. Venator. I thank you, good master, for this piece of merriment, and this song, which was well humoured by the maker, and well remembered by you. Piscator. But, I pray, forget not the catch which you promised to make against night; for our countryman, honest Coridon, will expect your catch, and my song, which I must be forced to patch up, for it is so long since I learned it, that I have forgot a part of it. But, come, now it hath done raining, let's stretch our legs a little in a gentle walk to the river, and try what interest our angles will pay us for lending them so long to be used by the Trouts — lent them, indeed, like usurers, for our profit and their destruction. Venator. Oh me! look you, master, a fish ! a fish! — Oh, master, I have lost her. Piscator. Ay marry, sir, that was a good fish indeed : if I had had the luck to have taken up that rod, then 'tis twenty to one he should not have broke my line by running to the rod's end, as you suffered him. I would have held him within the bent of my rod, Sunless he had been fellow to the great Trout that is near an ell long, which was of such a length and depth that he had his picture dra\vn, and now is to be seen at mine host Rickabie's, at the George, in Ware,) and it may be by giving J 18 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. that very great Trout the rod — that is, by casting it to him into the water — I might have caught him at the long run ; for so I use always to do when I meet with an overgrown fish ; and you will learn to do so too hereafter ; for I tell you, scholar, fishing is an art, or, at least, it is an art to catch fish. Venator. But, master, I have heard that the great Trout you speak of is a Salmon. Piscator. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say to it. There are many country people that believe hares change sexes every year : and there be very many learned men that think so too, for in their dissecting them they find many reasons to incline them to that belief. And to make the wonder seem yet less, that hares change sexes, note, that Dr Mer. Casaubon affirms, in his book 0/ Credible and Incredible Things, that Gasper Peucerus, a learned physician, tells us of a people that once a-year turn wolves, partly in shape and partly in conditions.* And so, whether this were a Salmon when he came into fresh water, and his not returning into the sea hath altered him to another colour or kind, I am not able to say ; but I am certain he hath all the signs of being a Trout, both for his shape, colour, and spots : and yet many think he is not. Venator. But, master, will this Trout which I had hold of die ? for it is like he hath the hook in his belly. Piscator. I will tell you, scholar, that unless the hook be fast in his very gorge, 'tis more than probable he will live, and a little time, vnih the help of the water, will rust the hook, and it will in time wear away, as the gravel doth in the horse- hoof, which only leaves a false quarter. And now, scholar, let's go to my rod. Look you, scholar, I have a fish too, but it proves a logger-headed Chub ; and this is not much amiss, for this will pleasure some poor body, as we go to our lodging to meet our brother Peter and honest Coridon. Come, now, bait your hook again, and lay it into the water, for it rains again ; and we will even retire to the sycamore tree, and there I will give you more directions concerning fishing, for I would fain make you an artist. Venator. Yes, good master, I pray let it be so. Piscator. Well, scholar, now we are sat down and are at ease, I shall tell you a little more of Trout fishing, before I speak of the Salmon, (which I purpose shall be next,) and then of the Pike, or Luce. You are to know, there is night as well as day fishing for a Trout ; and that, in the night, the best Trouts come out of » These stories, I need scarcely say, are altogether fabulous, though, like most other fancies, they might be shewn to arise from tome facts perverted. — J. It. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 19 their holes.* And the manner of taking them is on the top of the water \vith a great lob or garden-worm, or rather two, which you are to fish with in a place where the waters rim somewhat quietly, for in a stream the bait will not be so well discerned. I say, in a quiet or dead place, near to some swift, there draw your bait over the top of the water, to and fro, and if there be a good Trdut in the hole, he will take it, especially if the night be dark, for then he is bold, and lies near the top of the water, watching the motion of any frog, or water-rat, or mouse, that swims betwixt him and the sky : these he hunts after, if he sees the water but wrinkle or move in one of these dead holes, where these great old Trouts usually lie, near to their holds ; for you are to note, that the great old Trout is both subtle and fearful, and lies close all day, and does not usually stir out of his hold, but lies in it as close in the day as the timorous hare does in her form ; for the chief feeding of either is seldom in the day, but usually in the night, and then the great Trout feeds very boldly. And you must fish for him with a strong line, and not a little hook ; and let him have time to gorge your hook, for he does not usually forsake it, as he oft will in the day-fishing. And if the night be not dark, then fish so vdth an artificial fly of a light colour, and at the snap : nay, he will sometimes rise at a dead mouse, or a piece of cloth, or any thing that seems to swim across the water, or to be in motion. This is a choice way, but I have not oft used it, because it is void of the pleasures that such days as these, that we two now enjoy, afford an angler. And you are to know, that in Hampshire, which I think exceeds all England for swift, shallow, clear, pleasant brooks, and store of Trouts, they used to catch Trouts in the night, by the light of a torch or straw, which, when they have discovered, they strike with a Trout-spear, or other ways. This kind of way they catch very many : but I would not believe it till 1 was an eye-witness of it, nor do 1 like it now I have seen it.f Venator. But, master, do not Trouts see us in the night ? Piscator. Yes, and hear and smell too, both then and in the day time : for Gesner observes, the Otter smells a fish forty furlongs off him in the water : and that it may be true, seems to be affirmed by Sir Francis Bacon, in the Eighth Century of his Natural History, who there proves that waters may be the medium of sounds, by demonstrating it thus, — * ' that if you knock ♦ The holes here meant are not pools, as the same word means below, but under the brow of a bank, under the hollow of a stone, or the shelter of a tree root, where I have often, when a boy, surprised very large Trouts, and caught them with the hand. — J. R. t This, when practised with regard to Salmon, is called Black Fishing^ in Scotland, and has been graphically described by Sir Walter Scott in Guy Mannering. I hare myself been more than once engaged in it. — J. R. 120 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. two stones together very deep under the water, those that stand on a bank near to that place may hear the noise without any diminution of it by the water." He also offers the like experi- ment concerning the letting an anchor fall, by a very long cable or rope, on a rock, or the sand, mthin the sea. And this being so well observed and demonstrated as it is by that learned man, has made me to believe that Eels unbed themselves and stir at the noise of thunder, and not only, as some think, by the motion or stirring of the earth which is occasioned by that thunder. And this reason of Sir Francis Bacon (Exper. 792) has made me crave pardon of one that I laughed at for affirming that he knew Carps come to a certain place in a pond to be fed at the ringing of a bell or the beating of a drum. And, however, it shall be a rule for me to make as little noise as I can when I am fishing until Sir Francis Bacon be confuted, which I shall give any man leave to do.* And least you may think him singular in this opinion, I will tell you, tliis seems to be believed by our learned Dr Hakemll, who, in his Apology of God's Power and Providence, fol. 360, quotes Pliny to report that one of the emperors had particular fish ponds, and in them several fish that appeared and came when they were called by their particular names, f And St James tells us, chap. i. 7. that aU things in the sea have been tamed by mankind. And Pliny tells us, lib. ix. 85. that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a Lamprey at whose gills she hung jewels, or ear-rings ; and that others have been so tender- hearted as to shed tears at the death of fishes which they have kept and loved. And these observations, which will to most hearers seem wonderful, seem to have a farther confirmation from Martial, lib. iv. Epigr. 30. who writes thus : J Angler ! wouldst thou be guiltless ? then forbear : For these are sacred fishes that swim here, "V\'Tio know their sovereign, and will lick his hand ; Than which none 's greater in the world's command ; Nay more, they 've names, and, when they called are, Do to their several owners' call repair. » That fish hear, is confirmed by the authority of late writers : Swam- merdam asserts it, and adds, " They have a wonderful labyrinth of the ear for that purpose." See Swammerdam, Of Insects, edit. London, 17^, p. 50. A clergyman, a friend of mine, assures me, that at the abbey of St Bernard, near Antwerp, he saw Carp come at the whistling of the feeder. t Monsieur Berneier, in his History of Indostan, reports the like of the Great MoguL X The verses cited are as follow : Piscator, fuge ; ne nocens, recedas, Sacri3 piscibus hce natantur unde ; Qui norunt dominum, manumque lanabunt Illam qua nihil est, in orbe, majus : Quid, quod nomon habent ; et ad magistri Vgcem quisque «ui venit ciUituB. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 121 All the farther use that I shall make of this shall be, to advise anglers to be patient, and forbear swearing, least they be heard, and catch no fish. And so I shall proceed next to tell you, it is certain that certain fields near Leominster, a town in Herefordshire, are observed to make the sheep that graze upon them more fat than the next, and also to bear finer wool : that is to say, that that year in which they feed in such a particular pasture, they shall yield finer wool than they did that year before they came to feed in it; and coarser again if they shall retimi to their former pasture ; and again return to a finer wool, being fed in the fine wool ground : which I tell you, that you may the better believe that I am certain, if I catch a Trout in one meadow, he shall be white and faint, and very like to be lousy ; and as certainly, if I catch a Trout in the next meadow, he shall be strong and red, and lusty, and much better meat. Trust me, scholar, I have caught many a Trout in a particular meadow, that the very shape and the enamelled colour of him hath been such as hath joyed me to look on him : and I have then, with much pleasure, concluded with Solomon, " Every thing is beautiful in his season," * I should, by promise, speak next of the Salmon ; but I vnW, by your favour, say a little of the Umber, or Grayling, which is so like a Trout for his shape and feeding, that I desire I may exercise your patience with a short discourse of him ; and then the next shall be of the Salmon. » The Trout delights in small purling riyers, and brooks with gravelly bottoms and a swift stream. His haunts are an eddy, behind a stone, or log, or a bank that projects forward into the river, and against which the stream drives ; a shallow between two streams ; or, towards the latter end of the summer, a mill tail. His hold is usually in the deep, under the hollow of a bank, or the root of a tree. The Trout spawns about the beginning of November, and does not recover till the beginning of March. When you fish for large Trout or Salmon, a winch will be very useful ; npon the rod with which you use the winch, whip a number of small rings, of about an eighth of an inch diameter, and at first about two feet distant from each ofher, but afterward diminishing gradually in their distances till you come to the end : the winch must be screwed on to the butt of your rod ; and round the barrel let there be wound eight or ten yards of wove hair or silk line. When you have struck a fish that may endanger your tackle, let the line run, and wind him up as he tires. When you angle for a Trout, whether with a fly or at the ground, you need but make three or four trials in a place ; which, if unsuccessful, you may conclude there are none there. Walton, in speaking of the several rivers where Trout are found, has made no mention of tlie Kennet • which, undoubtedly, produces as good and as many Trouts as any river in England. In the reign of King Cha.rles the Second, a Trout was taken in that river, near Newbury, with a casting, net, which measured forty.five inches in length. I may add to this note by Hawkins, that it will be important not to carry a Trout, when struck, up the stream ; for, in that case, the force of the stream and the strength of the fish united, will probably snap the Une.— J. R. 122 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. CHAPTER VI. OBSERVATIONS OF THE UMBER, OR GRAYLING, AND DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. The Grayling — Salmo Thi/mallus. — Ljnn^us. Piscator. The Umber and Grayling are thought by some to diflfer, as the Herring and Pilchard do ; but though they may do so in other nations, I think those in England differ nothing but in their names. Aldrovandus says, they be of a Trout kind ; and Gesner says, that in his country, which is Switzer- land, he is accounted the choicest of all fish. And in Italy, he is in the month of May so highly valued, that he is sold then at a much higher rate than any other fish. The French, which call the Chub un villain^ call the Umber of the Lake Leman UH umble chevalier ; and they value the Umber, or Grayling, so highly that they say he feeds on gold ; and say, that many have been caught out of their famous river of Loire, out of whose bellies grains of gold have been often taken. And some think that he feeds on water thyme,* and smells of it at his first taking out of the water ; and they may think so with as good reason as we do that our Smelts smell like ^dolets at their being first caught, which I think is a truth. Aldrovandus says, the Salmon, the Grayling, the Trout, and aU fish that live in clear and sharp streams, are made by their mother Nature of such exact shape and pleasant colours purposely to invite us to a joy and contentedness in feasting with her. Whether this is a truth or not it is not my purpose to dispute ; but 'tis certain, all « There is no plant of this name known to botanists, and I think it must be wholly imaginary. — J. S. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 198 that ^^Tite of the Umber declare him to be very medicinable. And Gesner says, that the fat of an Umber, or Grayling, being set, ^vith a little honey, a day or two in the sun, in a little glass, is very excellent against redness, or swarthiness, or any thing that breeds in the eyes. Salvian* takes him to be called Umber from his swift swimming, or gliding out of sight more like a shadow, or a ghost, than a fish. Much more might be said both of his smell and taste : but I shall only tell you, that St Ambrose, the glorious bishop of Milan, who lived when the church kept fasting days, calls him the Flower-fish, or flower of fishes ; and that he was so far in love with him that he would not let him pass without the honour of a long discourse ; but I must, and pass on to tell you how to take this dainty fish. First note, that he grows not to the bigness of a Trout ; for the biggest of them do not usually exceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers as the Trout does, and is usually taken with the same baits as the Trout is, and after the same manner ; for he will bite both at the Minnow, or worm, or fly, (though he bites not often at the Minnow,) and is very gamesome at the fly; and much simpler, and therefore bolder than a Trout ; for he will rise twenty times at a fly, if you miss him, and yet rise again. He has been taken with a fly made of the red feathers of a Pai'akita, a strange outlandish bird ; and he mil rise at a fly not unlike a gnat, or a small moth, or, indeed, at most flies that are not too big. He is a fish that lurks close all winter, but is very pleasant and jolly after mid April, and in May, and in the hot months. f He is of a very fine shape, his flesh is white, his teeth, those little ones that he has, are in his throat, yet he has so tender a mouth, that he is oftener lost after an angler has hooked him than any other fish. Though there be many of these fishes in the delicate river Dove, and in Trent, and some other smaller rivers, as that which runs by Salisbury, yet he is not so general a fish as the Trout, nor to me so good to eat or to angle for.:}: And so I shall take my leave of him ; and now come to some observations on the Salmon, and how to catch him. ♦ Hippolito Salviani, an Italian physician of the sixteenth century : hp wrote a treatise De Piscibut, cum eorutn figuris, and died at Rome, 15'72, aped 59. f " Grayling," says Sir Humphry Davy, " Ifjou take your station by the side of a river, will rise nearer to you than Trout, for they lie deeper, and therefore are not so much seared hy an object on the bank ; but they are more delicate in the choice of the flies than Trout" — J. R. X The haunts of the Grayling are s^o nearly the same with those of the Trout, that, in fishing for either, you may, in many rivers, catch both. They spawn about the beginning of April, when they lie mostly in sharp streams. Baits for the Grayling are chiefly the same as those for the Trout, except the Minaow, which be will not take so freely. He will also take geutles 124 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. CHAPTER VII. OBSERVATIONS OF THE SALMON ; WITH DIUECTIOXS UO^V TO riSH rOE HIM. The Salmon — Salma salar Lix.vAius. Piscator. The Salmon is accounted the king of fresh water lish ; and is ever bred in rivers relating to the sea, yet so high, or far from it, as admits of no tincture of salt or brackishness. He is said to breed, or cast his spawn, in most rivers, in the month of August : * some say, that then they dig a hole, or grave, in a safe place in the gravel, and there place their eggs, very eagerly, too smaU. When you fish for him with a fly, you can hardly use one The Grayling is much more apt to rise than descend ; therefore, when you angle for film alone, and not for the Trout, rather use a float, with the bait from six to nine inches from the bottom, than the running line. The Grayling is found in great plenty in many rivers in the north, ftarticularly the Humber. And iu the Wye, which runs through Here* ordshire and Monmouthshire into the Severn, I have taken, with an artificial fly, very large ones ; as also great numbers of a small, but excellent fish, of the Trout kind, called a Lastspring ; of which somewhat will be said in a subsequent note. They are not easily to be got at withotit a boat, or wading ; for which reason, those of that country use a thing they call a thorricle, or truckle ; in some places it is called a coble, from the Latin corbula, a little basket ; it is a basket, shaped like the half of a walnut shell, but shallower in proportion, and covered on the outside with a horse's hide ; it has a bench in the middle, and will just hold one person, and is so light, that the countrymen will hang it on their heads like a hood) and so travel with a small paddle, which serves for a stick, till they come to a river, and then they lanch it and step in. There is great difficulty in getting into one of these truckles, for the instant you touch it with your foot it flies from you ; and, when you are in, the least inclination of the body oversets it. It is very diverting to see how upright a man is forced to sit in these vessels, and to mark with what state and (Solemnity he draws up the stoue which serves for an .inchor, when he would remove, and lets it down again : however, it is a sort of navigation that 1 would wish our piscatory disciple never to attempt. ♦ Their usual time of spawning is about the latter end of August, or the beginning of September; but it is said that those in the Severn spawn in May. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 125 or spawn, after the melter has done his natural office, and then hide it most cunningly, and cover it over with gravel and stones ; and then leave it to their Creator's protection, who, by a gentle heat which he infuses into that cold element, makes it' brood and beget life in the spauTi, and to become Samlets early in the spring next following.* The Salmons having spent their appointed time, and done this natural duty in the fresh waters, they then haste to the sea before winter, both the melter and spa^vner ; but if they be stopped by flood-gates, or weirs, or lost in the fresh waters, then those so left behind by degrees grow sick, and lean, and unsea- sonable, and kipper ; that is to say, have bony gristles grow out of their lower chaps, not unlike a Hawk's beak, which hinder their feeding ; and, in time, such fish so left behind pine away and die. It is observed, that he may live thus one year from the sea ; but he then grows insipid and tasteless, and loses both his blood and strength, and pines and dies the second year. And it is noted, that those little Salmons called Skeggers, which abound in many rivers relating to the sea, are bred by such sick Salmons that might not go to the sea, and that though they abound, yet they never thrive to any considerable bigness.f But if the old Salmon gets to the sea, then that gristle which shev^'s him to be kipper, wears away, or is cast off, as the Eagle is said to cast his bill, and he recovers his strength, and comes next summer to the same river, if it be possible, to enjoy the former pleasures that there possessed him ; % for, as one has wittily observed, he has, like some persons of honour and riches which have both their winter and summer houses, the fresh rivers for summer, and the salt water for winter, to spend his life in ; which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his History of Life and Death, above ten years. Arid it is to be observed, that though the Salmon does grow big in the sea, yet he grows not fat but in fresh rivers ; and it is observed, that the farther they get from the sea, they be both the fatter and better. Next, I shall tell you, that though they make very hard shift to get out of the fresh rivers into the sea, yet they will make a harder shift to get out of the salt into the fresh rivers, to spawn, or possess the pleasures that they have formerly found in them: to which end, they will force themselves through flood-gates or * Walton's phrase, " some say," expresses a doubt ; but I can affirm, from repeated observation, that his aTOimt is correct. — J. R. f A great deal of this is obviously fanciful and erroneous. — J. R. t The mi^-ation of the Salmon, and divers other sorts of fishes, is analo. pons to that of birds ; and Mr Kay confirms Walton's assertion, by saying, that " Salmon will yearly ascend up ariver four or five hundred miles, only to ca^t their spawn, and secure it in banks of sand till the ymmar be hatched and ex<"luded, and then return to sea again." — Wisd<>tn of God manifested in the Worktofthe Creation, p. 130. 126 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. over wears or hedges, or stops in the water, even to a height beyond common belief. Gesner speaks of such places as are known to be above eight feet high above water. And our Camden mentions, in his Britamiia, the like wonder to be in Pembrokeshire, where the river Tivy falls into the sea ; and that the fall is so do\vnright, and so high, that the people stand and wonder at the strength and sleight by which they see the Salmon use to get out of the sea into the said river ; and the manner and height of the place is so notable, that it is known far by the name of the " Salmon -leap." Concerning which, take this also out of Michael Drayton, my honest old friend, as he tells it you in his Polyolbion : As when the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find ("Which hither from the sea comes yearly by his kind,) As he towards season grows ; and stems the watery tract Where Tivy, falling down, makes a high cataract, Forced by the rising rocks that there her course oppose. As though within her bounds they meant her to enclose ; Here, when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive, And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strive; His tail takes in his mouth, and, bending like a bow That 's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw, Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand That bended end to end, and started from man's hand, Far off itself doth cast : so does the Salmon vault ; And if, at first, he fail, his second summersault He instantly essays, and from his nimble ring Still yerking, never leaves until himself he fling Above the opposing stream. This Michael Drayton tells you of this leap, or summersault, of the Salmon. * And, next, I shall tell you, that it is observed by Gesner and others, that there is no better Salmon than in England ; and that though some of our northern counties have as fat and as large as the river Thames, yet none are of so excellent a taste, f And as I have told you, that Sir Francis Bacon observes, the age of a Salmon exceeds not ten years ; so let me next tell you, that his growth is very sudden. It is said, that after he is got * In the statistical Account of Benley, we are told of a Salmon leap, by the side of which a kettle was kept boiling, and the Salmon frequently, on missing' their spring, fell into this kettle and were boiled alive. — J. K. f The following interesting article of intelligence appeared in one of the London Journals, 18th April, 1789. — " The largest Salmon ever caught was yesterday brought to London. This extraordinary fish measured up- wards of four feet from the point of the nose to the extremity of the tail, and three feet round the thickest part of the body ; its weigiit was seventy pounds within a few ounces. A fishmonger in the Minones cut it up at one shilling per pound, and the whole was sold almost immediately." THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 127 into the sea, he becomes, from a Samlet not so big as a Gudgeon, to be a Sahnon, in as short a time as a gosling becomes to be a goose. Much of this has been observed, by tying a riband, or some known tape or thread, in the tail of some young Salmons which had been taken in weirs as they have swimmed towards the salt water, and then by taking a part of them again with the known mark, at the same place, at their return from the sea, which is usually about six months after ; and the like experiment hath been tried upon young swallows, who have, after six months' absence, been observed to return to the same chimney, there to make their nests and habitations for the summer following : which has inclined many to think, that every Salmon usually returns to the same river in which it was bred, as young pigeons taken out of the same dovecot have also been observed to do. And you are yet to observe farther, that the he Salmon is usually bigger than the Spawner : and that he is more kipper, and less able to endure a winter in the fresh water than the she is : yet she is, at that time of looking less kipper and better, as watery and as bad meat. And yet you are to observe, that as there is no general rule without an exception, so there are some few rivers in this nation that have Trouts and Salmons in season in winter, as it is certain there be in the river Wye in Monmouthshire, where they be in season, as Camden observes, from September till April.* But, my scholar, the observation of this and many other things I must in manners omit, because they will prove too large for our narrow compass of time, and, therefore, I shaU next f^l upon my direction how to fish for this Salmon. And, for that : First you shall observe, that usually be stays not long in a place, as Trouts wll, but, as I said, covets stni to go nearer the spring-head ; f and that he does not, as the Trout and many other fish, lie near the water-side, or bank, or roots of trees, but swims in the deep and broad parts of the water, and usually in the middle and near the ground, and that there you are to fish for him ; and that he is to be caught, as the Trout is, wth a Worm, a Minnow (which some calla Penk,) or with a Fly. And you are to observe, that he is very seldom observed to bite at a Minnow, yet sometimes he will, and not usually at a Fly, but more usually at a Worm, and then most usually at a Lob, or Garden Worm, which should be well scoiured, that is to * In the River Lea, which rnns into the sea at the Core of Cork, Salmon are likewise in season the whole year round, as I can myself testify, having resided at Cork the greater part of a year. — J. R. t The Salmon delights in large rapid rivers, especially such as have pebbly, gravelly, and sometimes weedy bottoms. 1*28 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. say, kept seven or eight days in moss before you fish with them : and if you double your time of eight into sixteen, twenty, or more days, it is still the better; for the worms will still be clearer, tougher, and more lively, and continue so longer upon your hook. And they may be kept longer by keeping them cool, and in fresh moss; and some advise to put camphor into it.* Note also, that many use to fish for a Salmon with a ring of wire on the top of their rod, through which the line may nm to as great a length as is needful, when he is hooked. And to that end some use a wheel about the middle of their rod, or near their hand, which is to be observed better by seeing one of them, than by a large demonstration of words. And now I shall tell you that which may be called a secret. I have been a-fishing with old Oliver Henley, now with God, a noted fisher both for Trout and Salmon ; and have observed, that he woidd usually take three or four worms out of his hag, and put them into a little box in his pocket, where he would usually let them continue half an hour or more, before he would bait his hook with them. I have asked him his reason, and he has replied, *' He did but pick the best out to be in readiness against he baited his hook the next time : " but he has been observed, both by others and myself, to catch more fish than I, or any other body that has ever gone a-fishing with him could do, and especially Salmons. And I have been told lately, by one of his most intimate and secret friends, that the box in \^•llich he put those worms was anointed with a drop, or two or three, of the oil of ivy -berries, made by expression or infusion ; and told, that by the worms remaining in that box an hour, or a like time, they had incorporated a kind of smell that was irre- sistibly attractive, enoxigh to force any fish wthin the smell of them to bite. This I heard not long since from a friend, but have not tried it ; yet I grant it probable, and refer my reader to Sir Francis Bacon's Natural History, where he proves fishes may hear, and, doubtless, can more probably smell ; and I am (pertain Gesner says, the Otter can smell in the water ; and I know not but that fish may do so too. It is left for a lover of ♦ Baits for Salmon arp : I^b- worms, for the ground ; smaller Worms and Ers, will find very little occasion fi>r more than one. The Pike is also to be caught with a Minnow ^ for which method take the following directions : Get a single hook, slender, and long in the shank ; let it resemble the shape of a shepherd's crook ; put lead upon it, as thick near the bent as will go into a Minnow's mouth. Place the point of the hook directly up the face of the fish. Let the rod be as long as you can handsomely manage, with a line of the same length. Cast up and down, and manage it as when you troll with any other bait. If, when the Pike h.ith taken your bait, he run to the end of the line before he hHth gorged it, do not strike, but hold still only, and he will return back and swaUow it. But if you use that bait with a troll, I rather prefer it before any bait that I know.— VemiUes. In landing a Pike, great caution is nex^ssary ; for his bite is esteemed yenomou,-'. The best and safest hold you can take of him is by the head ; in doing which, place your thumb and finger in his eyes, * In the Royal Cookery^ by P. Lamb, Esq. master cook to Queen Anne, I find fifteen ways of dressing Pike, most of them requiring wine either for sauce or for boiling, it reminds oue of Lord Blayney's hams boiled in champaign. — J. R. 142 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. roasted in bis belly ; and by this means the Pike will be kept unbroken and complete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and also that sauce in the pan, you are to add a fit quantity of the best butter, and to squeeze the juice of three or four oranges. Lastly, you may either put into the Pike, with the oysters, two cloves of garlick, and take it whole out, when the Pike is cut off the spit ; or to give the sauce a haut gout, let the dish into which you let the Pike fall be rubbed with it ; the using or not using of this garlick is left to your discretion M. B. This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or very honest men, and I trust you will prove both, and therefore I have trusted you with this secret. Let me next tell you, that Gesner tells us, there are no Pikes in Spain, and that the largest are in the lake Thrasimene in Italy ; and the next, if not equal to them, are the Pikes of England ; and that in England, Lincolnshire boasteth to have the biggest. Just so doth Sussex boast of four sorts of fish, namely, an Arundel Mullet, a Chichester Lobster, a Shelsey Cockle, and an Amerly Trout. But I will take up no more of your time with this relation, but proceed to give you some observations of the Carp, and how to angle for him ; and to dress him, — but not till he is caught. CHAPTER IX. OBSERVATIONS OF THE CARP ; WITH DIRECTIONS HOW TO nSH FOR HIM. The Caup — Ci/prinus Crtrpio. — Linn.Sus. Piscator. The Carp is the queen of rivers ; a stately, a good, and a very subtle fish, that was not at first bred, nor hath been long in England, but is now naturalized. It is said they were brought hither by one Mr Mascal, a gentleman that then lived THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 143 at Plumsted in Sussex, a county tliat abounds more with fish than any in this nation.* You may remember that I told you, Gesner says, there are no Pikes in Spain ; and doubtless there was a time, about a hundred or a few more years ago, when there were no Carps in England, as may seem to be affirmed by Sir Richard Baker, in whose Chronicle you may find these verses : Hops and Turkeys, Carps and Beer Came into England all in a year.f And doubtless, as of sea fish the Herrhig dies soonest out of the water, and of fresh water fish the Trout, so, except the Eel, the Carp endures most hardness, and lives longest out of his own proper element. And, therefore, the report of the Carp's being brought out of a foreign country into this nation is the more probable. Carps and Loaches are observed to breed several months in one year, which Pikes and most other fish do not. And this is partly proved by tame and wild Rabbits : as also by some Ducks, which will lay eggs nine of the twelve months, and yet there be other Ducks that lay no longer than about one month. And it is the rather to be believed, because you shall scarce or never take a male Carp without a melt, or a female \vithout a roe, or spawn, and for the most part very much, and especially all the summer season. And it is observed, that they breed more naturally in ponds than in running waters, if they breed there at all ; and that those that live in rivers are taken by men of the best palates to be much the better meat. And it is observed, that in some ponds Carps will not breed, especially in cold ponds ; but where they will breed, they breed innumerably ; Aristotle and Pliny say, six times in a year, if there * For proof of this fart, we have tlie testimony of the author of the Book (if Fishing trith Hooke and Line, quarto, Lond. 1590, already mentioned in the Life of Walton, who, though the initials only of his name are g^iven in the title, appears to have been Leonard ^!asrali the translator of a book of Planting and GraflBng, quarto, 1589, 1599, and the author of a book On Cattel, quarto, 1596. Fuller, in his Woithies, Sussex, 113, seems to have ronfounded thfse two persons; the lat'er of whom, in the tract first above, mentioned, speaks of the former by report only ; besides which, they lived at the distance of seventy years from each other, and the author of the book Of Fishing is conjectured to be a Hampshire man. t See in the Life of Walton, hereto prefixed, a passage extracted from the book of Dame Juliana Barnes, whereby it appeirs that, in her time, there were Carps, though but few, in England. It seems, therefore, that Mr Mascal, of Plumsted, did not first bring hither Carps ; but, as the curious in gardening do by exotic pbints, he naturalized this species of fish, and that about the era mentioned in the above distich, " Hops and Turkeys," Kc. which elsewhere is read thus: Hops, Refonnation, Turkeys, Carps, and Beer, Came into England all in one year. 144 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. be no Pikes nor Perch to devour their spawn, when it is cast upon grass, or flags, or weeds, where it lies ten or twelve days before it be enlivened. The Carp, if he have water room and good feed, vvdll grow to a very great bigness and length ; I have heard, to be much above a yard long.* It is said by Jovius,t who hath vnit of fishes, that in the lake Lurian, in Italy, Carps have thriven to be more than fifty pounds weight : which is the more probable, for as the bear is conceived and born suddenly, and being born is but short-lived ; so, on the contrary, the elephant is said to be two years in his dam's belly, some think he is ten years in it, and being bom, grows in bigness twenty years ; and it is observed, too, that he lives to the age of a hundred years. And it is also observed, that the Crocodile is very long-lived ; and more than that, that all that long life he thrives in bigness ; and so I think some Carps do, especially in some places, though I never saw one above twenty-three inches, which was a great and a goodly fish ; but have been assured there are of a far greater size, and in England too.:}: Now, as the increase of Carps is wonderful for their number, so there is not a reason found out, I think, by any, why they should breed in some ponds, and not in others, of the same nature for soil and all other circumstances. And as their breeding, so are their decays also very mysterious : I have both read it, and been told by a gentleman of tried honesty, that he has known sixty or more large Carps put into several ponds near to a house, where, by reason of the stakes in the ponds, and the owner's constant being near to them, it was impossible they should be stolen away from him ; and that when he has, after three or four years, emptied the pond, and expected an increase from them by breeding young ones, (for that they might do so he had, as the rule is, put in three melters for one spawner,) he has, I say, after three or four years, found neither a young nor old Carp remaining. And the like I have known of one that had almost watched the pond, and at a like distance of time, at the fishing of a pond, found, of seventy or eighty large Carps, not above five or six : and that he had forborne longer to fish the said pond, but that he saw, in a hot day in summer, a large Carp swim near the top of the water vdth a » The widow of the late Mr David Garrirk, of Drury Lane theatre, once told me, that in her native roimtry, Germany, she had seen the head of a Carp served np at labh-, h\g enon h to fill a iaree dish. f Paulns Jovius, an Italian historian of very doubtful authority. He lived in the sixteenth century, and wrote a small tract, De Romanis Piscibta. He died at Florence, 1552. X The aii1h()r of the Angler's Sure Guide says, that he has taken Carp above twenty-six inches Ion?, in rivers; and adds, that they are often seea iu England above thirty inches long-. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 145 frog upon his head ; and that he, upon that occasion, caused his pond to be let dry : and I say, of seventy or eighty Carps, only found five or six in the said pond, and those very sick and lean, and with every one a frog sticking so fast on the head of the said Carps, that the frog would not be got oif ^vithout extreme force, or killing. And the gentleman that did affirm this to me, told me he saw it ; and did declare his belief to be, and I also believe the same, that he thought the other Carps, that were so strangely lost, were so killed by frogs, and then devoured.* And a person of honour, now living in Worcestershire, f assured me he had seen a necklace, or collar, of tadpoles, hang like a chain, or necklace of beads, about a Pike's neck, and to kill him : whether it were for meat or malice, must be, to me, a question. But I am fallen into this discourse by accident, of which I might say more, but it has proved longer than I intended, and possibly may not to you be considerable : I shall therefore give you three or four more short observations of the Carp, and then fall upon some directions how you shall fish for him. The age of Carps is, by Sir Francis Bacon, in his History of Life and Death, observed to be but ten years ; yet others think they live longer. Gesner says, " A Carp has been known to live in the Palatinate above a hundred years, "f But most conclude, that, contrary to the Pike, or Luce, all Carps are the better for age and bigness. The tongues of Carps are noted to be choice and costly meat, especially to them that buy them : but Gesner says, " Carps have no tongue like other fish, but a piece of flesh-like fish in their mouth, like to a tongue, and should be called a palate :"§ but it is certain it is choicely good, and that the Carp is to be reckoned amongst those leather- mouthed fish which, I told you, have their teeth in their throat ; and for that reason he is very seldom lost by breaking his hold, if your hook be once stuck into his chaps. . I told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks that the Carp lives but ten years : but Janus Dubravius has writ a book Of Fish and Fish Ponds, |j in which he says, that " Carps begin to ♦ It would be wrong to deny surh direct testimony, but it appears improbable that frogs could, if they were so inclined, succeed in killinir Carp. -J. K. t Mr. Fr. Ru. t Lately, namely, in one of the daily papers for the month of August, 1782, an arti